The Silver Age
by SoulsandSwords
Summary: Six months after the events of The Tail of the Jellicle Cats. With the aftermath still weighing heavily on his shoulders, as well as new, overwhelming duties that he must take charge of, Munkustrap will require more than loyalty and patience to learn what it takes to lead the Jellicle Tribe... especially since taking his place won't be so easy with other toms eyeing the throne...
1. Remembrance

**Part 1: A New Form of** **Usurpation**

* * *

While cats may be blessed with nine lives, it is still their duty to live out their purpose in each and every one. Those who disregard their gift from the Everlasting Cat are unable to journey to the heaviside layer, and are instead born immediately into their next life; no memories of their past, no experience with the wonders of heaven. Meanwhile, the cats who have faithfully lived by their strongly-held morals and allowed their ethics to guide them, are honored with the ability to _choose_ which cat will get to ascend.

* * *

 **Old Deuteronomy**

The Norwegian Forest tom blitzed through the rainy streets and returned to where his colleagues had been waiting for him. It only took one of them to find him out in town and delivery the message, but evidently it would take five or more to confirm the news. "Is it true?" He asked without taking a moment to catch his breath, "Did she deliver?"

"Yes! Another boy!"

Old Deuteronomy brushed past the tabbies and saw his mate lying on the bloody blanket; at her breast was where a small, wriggling kitten was clutched; black and silver markings, eyes squeezed shut. His older brother was nowhere to be found... in fact, where were his _other_ siblings?

"What happened to the rest?"

"Gone." Said a queen calmly. "He's the only one who made it. The rest suffocated." Old Deuteronomy only sighed—this was common among many tribes of cats; the Jellicles were no exception to stillborns or death moments after they touched the world. He moved closer to look upon his little survivor for the first time. His mate was still licking the kitten's fur clean. It was April twenty-fourth the day the Egyptian Mau was born.

She stopped and smiled. "He looks just like us." She moved her arm slightly so that Old Deuteronomy could see; enchanted by the new smell, the kit pulled away from his mother's nipple and tried hard to lift his head up off her paw. His ears were flat against his head, his tail was short and thin, and his eyes were round and puffy. _Mraa... Mraaahhh!_ Already he wanted to greet his father. He tried to climb over his weary mother to reach him, but Old Deuteronomy instead nuzzled him so that he could get used to his scent.

"Oh... look at you." He whispered lovingly as he let the kit press his nose to his. Just as it had been with his first son, it was love at first sight; first smell for the newborn. _Myeh... mreh..._ He rasped and struggled to clutch back onto his mother's chest. Hunger was all he knew. Still, already he was such a consummate singer; Old Deuteronomy could tell. Every time he looked upon a kitten that was his own for the first time, it amazed him. For everything in the world to them was magical and new, but also a danger to their life. It was his duty to protect them; they _depended_ on him to live! The same fascination could not be immediately said for his half-brother. When he came by while both the kit and his mother were resting, Old Deuteronomy greeted him with a firm scowl. "And where were _you?_ You couldn't stay a while and meet your new brother?" The tom kitten said nothing and pranced over to the sleeping duo, where he saw the squirmy infant nestled in their mother's arms; he wheezed in his sleep, still getting air into his lungs.

"Hmph." The ginger cat sneered. "He's ugly."

"You think _you_ looked any better when you had just been born?"

"I'm only teasing my new brother." Said the boy without missing a single beat, though Old Deuteronomy vehemently doubted that. Even if there had been any truth to that statement, it only reinforced how cruel his sense of humor was.

"I want you to be on your best behavior around him; he's fragile."

"You're talking as if I have no sense. Father, _of course_ I'm going to be careful with him." Even when he was putting on his warmest smile and charming tone of voice, Old Deuteronomy knew not to take his words to heart. He was the only one in the world who knew to never trust his own son, and it pained him, but it relieved him to know that as long as he didn't care much to be around the baby, no harm could be done should he become busy with other duties. For now, all that came first was his little kitten—in fact, all of the Jellicles were eager to meet him.

—

Before long, Old Deuteronomy's newest son was being praised left and right for his sweet nature and adorable looks, naturally, but the father of two had taken pride in something else about him; something he'd been thinking long and hard about since his wife announced her pregnancy. "He's going to make a fine leader. I just know already there's something serene about him."

She looked at him, surprised. "Isn't it a little early to be thinking about that? He's barely two weeks old."

"It's good to start planning these things early... this is my last life. Someone's got to take the tribe when I'm gone, and you know it can never be Macavity. He's not even enough to go to the heaviside layer."

"I know he has his behavioral issues, but he still has time to outgrow them... we just need to knock some discipline in him!"

"We've tried!" He snapped, "So many times we've tried, and now it's getting tiresome, don't you think?" His wife was used to his changes in temperament; the stress of having another kitten to look after had made his mood swings more turbulent than normal, but it was nothing she couldn't handle. She would not deny that she agreed with him to some extent, but to be able to take care of a tribe was a lot of expectation to place on a two-week old. He was hardly mewing as it was, so when the Hell did the old king plan to start his lectures? Would he read their history to him as bedtime stories? The thought was enough to make her dizzy... actually, she'd been _having_ these dizzy spells not long since she gave birth. More often than not, she was lying on her pillow when she wasn't tending to the kit. Such a fusser he was; sleeping through the night was impossible since he was always in such a need to feed. If not that, then he just wanted to be held. Macavity had been fussy too, from what Old Deuteronomy told her, but he wasn't a snuggle-kitten like this one was.

Sometimes, of course, it would be something happening in the city that would rouse the baby and scare it to tears. An ambulance driving by, dogs barking, or Big Ben chiming his mighty bell, which was hellish since this always happened at the _worst_ possible times for the parents. Lucky for them, the kit got used to the ever-present noises of the world and stopped reacting to them altogether. His fear and annoyance was replaced by indifference and comfort; he liked the sounds of the city—it reminded him that he was never alone, that there was always someone or _something_ nearby. His mother was able to get back on her feet somedays and help the kitten get some exercise; she'd playfully chase him around the abode. The silly boy he was, he'd often stop to make sure she was keeping up, only to speed off again with a joyful giggle, "My goodness! You're gonna be a cheetah when you grow up!" This was no exaggeration; he was a _fast_ feline. It wasn't just her older age catching up to her; at three weeks, the Egyptian Mau kitten could already reach up to nineteen kilometers per hour... and he would only get faster!

It was _her_ luck that the kitten was so active and eager to explore, of course. She worried how much time she would have left with him with her deteriorating state; such a long life she'd lived, so little time left to enjoy it. Her only kitten would barely remember her, if at all, by the time she passed. Just one more life, she pleaded, one more she could come back to so she could see her son again... even Macavity she'd like to see come to his senses and grow into a fine young tom. If he could just show her that he was capable of being a loving son and brother, then she could forgive him for all of his past sins... or at least let him start anew. Old Deuteronomy was less understanding... though, considering his most recent atrocity that had been the final straw for the old cat, it was hard to blame him... she wondered, however, how her own son would turn out, for it would be impossible for her to ever know.

* * *

 **Munkustrap**

"Old Deuteronomy is dead... Long live our beloved king. May his ninth and final journey to the heaviside layer be a peaceful one." Said Coricopat with a heavy heart. He stepped down from the funeral pyre where the grieving Jellicles awaited him. The fire had yet to be lit. Before _anything_ more could be done, the cats must sing. It was the only way Jellicles knew how to express their deepest emotions. They sang the song of their precious leader. Their last farewell.

 _Old Deuteronomy's lived a long time_  
 _He's a cat who has lived many lives in succession_  
 _He was famous in Proverb and famous in rhyme_  
 _A long while before Queen Victoria's accession_  
 _Old Deuteronomy's buried nine wives_  
 _And more I am tempted to say ninety-nine_  
 _And his numerous progeny prospers and thrives_  
 _And the village is proud of him in his decline_  
 _At the sight of that placid and bland physiognomy_  
 _When he sits in the sun on the vicarage wall_  
 _The oldest inhabitant croaks_

All but two young toms sang; they were his own sons. Munkustrap and the Maine Coon, Rum Tum Tugger, were in each other's arms, far too distraught to utter a single verse. Tugger's throat had gone raw, while Munkustrap found it impossible to sing properly through the tears; his own wails were stifled by his brother's shoulder. The tuxedo kitten, Mr. Mistoffelees, was helped up to the pyre where it was lit aflame. Old Deuteronomy's final wish would be fulfilled, and this would be the last time any of the Jellicles would have with him... in spirit and body. Munkustrap slowly lifted his head up from Tugger's hold; through a blurry, tear-filled line of sight could he see the flames growing and the smoke beginning to rise. Tiny embers danced across the sky. He might not have gotten to live a full final life, but at least in death his spirit could be carried up to the stars with ease.

Someone started coughing; how couldn't they? It was impossible to not have some repercussion from all the smoke in the air, but the wheezing became louder and Munkustrap could not identify the source. No one else seemed to be aware. Who on earth could be suffering so?

Over the hacking and sputtering, a voice called from the darkness, _"Munkustrap... Munkustrap!"_ It was his father's voice, but how? He'd died instantly from his wounds! He pulled away from his brother and stepped closer to the pyre, _"My boys_ _—"_ He choked and struggled, _"Are you there?"_ How could this be? He was still alive and now they were watching him burn to smithereens. Did no one else hear him?

"Dad!" He cried, "I'm coming!" He shoved through the crowd in a delirious panic; here was another chance to save his life, but no one was helping him. "Stop! Put out the fire! He's still alive!" He screamed at the top of his lungs, but the cats all stood in a still daze; there seemed to be more of them than he remembered. The raging heat of the fire burned against his skin and fur as he neared the pyre, but his vision was clouded by smoke and all he could see were floating embers.

 _"Why...? Why did you do this to me?"_ Old Deuteronomy begged; smoke filled his throat and lungs and he ceased to breathe. Not even one more attempt to cling to life as he gagged on the air. _I'm sorry!_ Munkustrap was trying to say, _I'm so sorry!_ But he was blinded by the thick, black smoke that swallowed his father whole and drowned them both into a pit of darkness; he could still hear his father pleading for his aid.

The next thing the tabby felt was his entire body jerk with fear as his eyes flew open; a desperate scream lodged in his throat, shivering all over.

He sat up, gasping for air as he looked around in a feeble attempt to remember where he was. His breaths were heavy and shallow, his heart thumped against his chest. When he knelt his head over, he felt the body of a young queen brush up against his side. He'd forgotten that he wasn't alone. Rising up behind him, Demeter brushed a paw across his cheek. "Munkustrap? What's wrong?"

He took another sip of the air and shook his head. "Nothing. I'm all right." He rasped quietly. Demeter was hardly persuaded. She stroked his shoulder gently.

"Did the nightmares come back?" She asked already knowing the answer; it had been six months since the funeral, and the suffering had shown no signs of abating. For a period of time, he had seemed all right. He was able to smile and laugh, and not a single night did he show distress when he slept. The sudden return wasn't surprising to her at all. Munkustrap didn't reply; his body language could only indicate shame and guilt. "Do you want to talk about it?" He swiped at his forehead and cleared his throat.

"No. I'm okay. Really." He looked into her eyes to try and prove his sincerity, but Demeter knew him better than that. She lied him back down and rested her forehead against his. "Did I wake you up?"

"Don't worry about that."

"But you need your rest."

"So do you... I hate seeing you upset." Munkustrap gazed at her eyes until he looked down towards her belly... four weeks now. Her kitten bump still surprised him whenever he caught a glimpse of it; she was the tiniest pregnant queen he'd ever seen, and seeing her carry their litter of four or five only brought him ease instead of worry. She took his paw and placed it over her full womb. She softly grinned as they both felt for that slight quiver of their kittens fumbling around inside.

"You know, they'll eventually start asking about their grandparents... When do you think we should tell them about your father?"

"We'll both know." Munkustrap said. "When the time is right, we'll know." Demeter could not but trust him—she knew that parents had a special intuition of their own... even with the bumps along the way, she could feel that they would know what they were doing. Munkustrap knew his kittens wouldn't live a life without a mother; Demeter was young and healthy. Old Deuteronomy's wives were older when they had him and Tugger; the more conservative tom had waited _long_ before he was ready to produce heirs... Munkustrap did not mate solely for heirs. He wanted a family of his own to love and cherish.

Demeter kissed his forehead, "I love you... Get some sleep." Munkustrap was already in a drowsy state as she'd said so. It wouldn't be difficult for him to abide as his lids drooped and his consciousness slipped away.


	2. Sunrise

**Munkustrap**

By the time Munkustrap woke up the next morning, it was already ten. How unacceptable! What's more is that when he opened his eyes, Demeter wasn't beside him. What was she doing? What if she needed help? Planting his paws on the ground, Munkustrap didn't take a moment to stretch before he jumped down from the blanketed garbage pile and went searching. He found her quite quickly; she had just gone to the scrap pile to bring over their breakfast. How relieved he looked was enough to make her giggle.

"What's got _you_ so panicked?" She smiled.

"I didn't know where you were." He sat down with her and started picking on the bones the Jellicles used to clean their teeth. For a tom that had gotten only a little more than four hours of sleep, he was already alert and determined to stay on schedule. Honestly, he could never go with the flow of things, Demeter thought.

"I just got up to get our food. Are you worried now that I'm fat I'll eat _your_ helping too?" She asked, laughing. Indeed, her portions were _much_ larger than the active tom's... but that's because she was eating for at least six!

The kindly tabby shook his head, "Of course not. I want you to eat as much as you need. Lord help us if one of them's as big as Tugger."

"I don't care if they're big." She said with a cheek full of bird meat. "And he was tiny when he was born, wasn't he?"

"Well, yes, but he had so many growth spurts that all he did the first few days was _feed_ and _feed._ Meanwhile I'm still waiting for _mine_."

"Why?" She raised a flirty brow, "So I can feed you?" Munkustrap replied with a look, hinting precisely at what she thought he was implying. She licked her mouth and her expression suddenly turned worried. "You feeling better this morning?" Munkustrap didn't miss a beat when he told her he was fine. "You seemed to be okay when I woke up. I didn't want to wake you since you need your sleep."

"No. You wake me whenever you need me. That's always been my rule." Demeter somehow didn't doubt that. She wouldn't even have to ask Tugger or anyone else to prove it. "I'm already running late, and I'm supposed to speak with Alonzo today about the winter ball."

Demeter arched a brow. "Winter? It's only November."

"No, it's _already_ November and we haven't been planning anything. Usually all this is taken care of by now." He explained. Demeter still wasn't accustomed to how the Jellicles organized their events and _when_ or _what_ was celebrated. Every occasion still felt like a surprise to her. "I'd take you with me, but I don't want to bore you to death with the details of what needs to be done."

"I thank you for sparing me that." Sniggered the calico. "I think I'll spend some time with the little ones today. They're so excited that they're going to have more kittens to play with."

"Just make sure you don't over—"

"—exert yourself. I know." She finished for him. "I have Jennyanydots and Jellylorum in case anything happens." Munkustrap's eyes widened. _"Nothing's_ going to happen." She sighed, though she knew he was only playing with her. Even the usually-stiff Egyptian Mau knew how to have a sense of humor. If only his brother gave him more credit for it. Where did he think he got it from anyway? After they parted ways with a short kiss and nuzzle, a sudden enquiry came to the Mau's mind. He wondered if he should quickly run out to look for Tugger before starting the meeting. He was, and Munkustrap was sure that Tugger would _love_ to hear this, a crucial part of the ball. His numbers were always popular with the queens, and it had been a while since he'd presented for them... by that he meant a good month or so.

Munkustrap didn't deny that he was out having his own _exhibitions_ while he was out in the city, but even _he_ was starting to miss him in his absence. If he were still a teenager, he'd celebrate nothing more than having some goddamn space... if he were in his _twenties_ , he'd sing just from having a day without Tugger's screaming fanclub nearby. And even when he despaired his anarchic antics did everyone know he loved him.

God. It was already 10:12. He didn't have time to go sniffing around the backlots looking for him... though a Maine Coon with a wild mane wasn't hard to spot. Besides, knowing his brother, he'd make up some excuse that he didn't have to be there anyway. He was probably still asleep up on a tree trunk in a park, if Munkustrap's instincts were correct. If not, he'd hunted down some rabbit or bird and was taking his sweet time savoring their meat and bones. Honestly, how was he so lackadaisical? Munkustrap would love to see him spend just _one_ day in his collar and see how well he could handle it... and knowing his own luck, Tugger would somehow best him at his own job. He handled _everything_ like it was nothing... Munkustrap just couldn't understand _how_. In a way, he envied his indifference. But if _one_ of them wasn't there to regulate everyone and everything, then nothing would be in balance.

Munkustrap grinned at that thought. He and Tugger were a balance. Heh, if he said that out loud, his brother would think he was joking. The _tribe_ would think he was joking. As he did every morning, Munkustrap went through a checklist in his head; one that had all the requirements of not only starting his day, but what he'd need when his time to take his place arrived... long-delayed as it already was.

Did he know his history of the Jellicles? Yes.

Was he of decent health and fit to fend off intruders? Yes.

The eldest kitten of the previous leader? ...He was _now_ _._

Did he have a mate and is she suitable to produce heirs? ...What kind of a rule was that? Now that he _had_ a mate who would soon be having _his_ kittens, that instruction, given to him in that very way his entire life, sounded so ludicrous. A tom should not mate a queen just for 'heirs.' Munkustrap himself was guilty of thinking that way for a long, _long_ time. Demeter was the _only_ queen he mated, and as far as he was concerned, the only one he ever would. He did not _need heirs_ ; they wanted kittens. Even when Old Deuteronomy was attempting to court him with every option he could, Munkustrap found himself having to _force_ a smile and civil interaction with the young queen. The thought of pairing off one of his own kittens with a complete stranger just so they could bed each other was unnerving... yet Old Deuteronomy had tried to do so with him with such ease.

Granted, that's how _he_ was raised, and so it was completely ordinary to him. It was how Munkustrap was taught... therefore was he to teach his kittens those ways as well?

Enough of this now. He had a ball to plan, and he'd kept Alonzo waiting for thirteen minutes overdue now.

* * *

 **Bombalurina**

The sun glittered down on her chartreuse eyes and fire-red coat. At last, the morning traffic had abated and she could cross the streets with ease. Her tail curled up high and she wore a soft, but inviting grin. Her eyes full of purpose, seeking something. On a morning like this, who _wouldn't_ be in the mood for a little adventure? The thirty-something queen of broken hearts knew she was – she _had_ been since she was eighteen. While she liked finding _new_ hearts to climb into, there was a particular one this morning that she wouldn't deny she'd been following since the night before.

There in a field, he already had a gaggle of teen she-cats bending to his will. Apparently he was showing them how he learned to dance, and they all only learned by watching his rear end... And he loved it. _They_ loved it. Their heads swiveled at every fraction of a movement his pelvis made. But when one would try to reach and make a grab at him, he'd skimp and strut _just_ out of reach, enticing her more and more. Somehow, for Bombalurina, it never got old. Not even as the older cats got fed up with his behavior, she would endorse it if she could. She'd be a hypocrite not to. The beautiful Somali she was, how _couldn't_ she show what she's got?

She'd let the leopard-spotted Maine Coon have enough time in the limelight. Now it was her turn, though it wasn't the kittens she wanted to woo. He had his back to her when he approached, but he smelled her once she was a few feet away. He still had one of the girls in paw, dancing a little play-waltz with her. He came to a full stop and the adolescents were looking right past him. "Might _I_ have a turn?" Her voice was sensuous even this early in the day. He was used to it by now.

Wind blowing through his fur, the sun's light bouncing off his jade-green eyes, Rum Tum Tugger looked at her with his signature smirk. "I think you'll have to wait a while. I've promised all these young ladies a turn." In that instant, the jealous queens huddled at his sides, leering resentfully at her.

"I don't mind." She went ahead and got comfortable in the grass. "It would please me very much."

"Well, you know that I'm anxious to please." He purred loudly and the cats squealed and at the sound reverberating chest and throat. When he went through each and every one, he was able to gently send them back to wherever they resided. He popped the collar of his vest back proper and approached the patient Bombalurina. "So, you're _really_ in the mood to dance? Or were you just jealous?" He teased.

"Jealous? After I've gotten much more than they have? You're not _that_ daft." She tickled his chin but he snapped his jaws to shoo her away. It was nothing they hadn't done before. All fun and games. Never anything else. They began to saunter down the pathway. "I'm surprised you're not at home. You think your brother needs you for anything?"

Tugger shrugged. "If he really needed me that badly, he'd come and find me."

"Fair enough." She put her tail around his torso and faked a shiver. "My, it's already gotten cold, hasn't it?"

"It's twenty degrees." Tugger sneered.

"I know! I miss the summer. Don't you?" She pulled herself closer to him and rubbed up against his fur. "Actually, I bet you hate it with this coat you've got."

"That's why I shed it every year. I thought all cats knew that."

Bombalurina came close, looked up into his eyes. "I suppose I still have a lot to learn." As flattering as she was trying to be, Tugger just wasn't in the mood. Not this morning.

"Says the queen whose 'seen it all' already." Bombalurina scowled and took a step back. He wasn't playing along as she'd hoped. "You know I'm not exactly a 'in the morning' kind of cat." He said.

"I was hoping you'd make an exception."

"Why?" He snickered, "Someone blow you off last night? That might've been me." She scoffed. Tugger knew that when she got huffy, it was just to guilt him out. It never worked. "Christ. Look, Bomba, just not this morning is all. All right?" She didn't answer. "Hellooo?"

"Never mind. It's not you." She apologized.

"What is it, then?"

"I just... haven't been home in a while and you're the only other cat that actually _leaves_ every so often."

"So... you're saying you miss everyone?" Of course she was! Didn't she just say so? He tried to hold back a laugh. "Bomba, nothing's stopping you from coming back. I leave and go back all the time."

"I know." She grumbled. "I just thought we could..." Did she _really_ have to tell him that she just wanted some quality alone time with someone she knew? Was he going to make her sink _that_ deep into her emotions? It would flatter his pride too much, and neither Jellicle needed that. Tugger was putting his own wants aside, little did she know. Unlike her, he actually wanted to go home and see if he was needed, but he also wasn't finding himself _that_ inclined to leave her there.

"I'll make an exception this morning." Her ears pricked up and she looked at him. "But it can't be very long."

Bombalurina grinned, "Well, how long have you got?"

He thought about it, playing with the belt just above his crotch. "I might need a minute or two to uh... get in the mood." He winked. Bombalurina knew what that gesture meant.

"Why don't I help you?" She said as she pulled him behind a balding tree.


	3. Meeting

**Munkustrap**

When he arrived to the central area of the junkyard, Alonzo, Plato, and Coricopat were already there. "Sorry I'm late!" He immediately said.

"We haven't even started yet." Alonzo reassured. "Plato was wondering if he should've brought any food."

"No, I ate. Are you all good?" Asked the tabby; the toms all responded. "Okay, so let's get started." Straight to business as always. The group expected nothing more from the Mau they all knew well. Coricopat, however, interrupted.

"Tugger should be with us, don't you think?"

"He doesn't need to be here for planning, just for rehearsals and some of the schedules." Munkustrap answered. The Burmese cat quietly nodded and let him continue. "The winter ball's always on December fifteenth, which means we only have a little over a month to get everything ready."

"We can always move it if we have to." Said Alonzo.

"No." Munkustrap asserted. "We can get it done. We just have to be quick about it."

"Considering it's our first time without Old Deuteronomy, we might want to give him a quick eulogy." Added Plato. Alonzo whipped his tail at him and shot him a glare. Plato didn't understand why. Munkustrap said nothing, at least not in time for Coricopat to speak up.

"If we delay it just enough, we could make it a Christmas ball."

 _"Christmas?"_

"Yeah. That holiday the humans like to do on the twenty-fifth. It could still happen on a special date that way."

"So that would give us ten extra days." Munkustrap thought about it. "What do humans do on Christmas?"

"You could ask Demeter." Suggested Alonzo. "She's lived with humans. Even Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer oughta know."

"Our owners didn't care much for holidays." A thick, Cockney accent chimed in. The group looked up to see the Bengal twins relaxing on an old, destroyed bookcase. Mungojerrie was the one speaking. "They never decorated or invited company over while the rest of the neighborhood was."

Rumpleteazer jumped in. "Well, once they _did..._ But I think that was the year we knocked over their Christmas tree."

Munkustrap was completely baffled. "They put a _tree_ in their house?"

"No, silly!" She snorted. "A fake tree! Just like humans all put fake suns in their houses so they can see when it's dark. Humans go blind in the dark unlike us. Anyway, I decided to check it out and get cozy... and then _somebody,_ _"_ she looked coldly at a smug Mungojerrie, "thought it'd be funny to try and knock over the star on top..." She started laughing, "All right, it _was_ amusing!"

"Any particular reason you both felt the need to interrupt our meeting?" Plato chided.

"We're keen to cause a ruckus!" Mungojerrie smiled. "Or we just happened to be passing by and decided to add our insight."

"We appreciate it," Munkustrap politely began, "but it's important that we finish in time." The twins glanced at each other with intrigued shrugs and leapt away. Indeed, they were counted on for appearing randomly at any given time. They seemed to jump into whatever conversation interested them. Moreso, it was always _both_ of them, never were they encountered without the other. It was a mystery of how they weren't literally conjoined twins.

"Munkustrap." He turned and looked at Alonzo; the Turkish Angora looked rather anxious. "There's something else we'll need to talk about."

"What is it?"

"It's... a matter of your coronation. We know you've needed time, but going this long without a leader is unheard of for any other tribe. We were hoping that the morning of the ball, we could... er, _you_ could take your place." Munkustrap didn't give him a clear response, not even in expression. Neither of the other two toms looked like they wanted to say anything, but Alonzo had said 'we.' So they had _all_ discussed this without him around. While this fact alone annoyed him, Munkustrap gave a stoic nod.

"I think the tribe can go another month or two without my rule... Right now I want to focus on Demeter and our kittens." He justified. The toms seemed to find no problem with that. "She's almost five weeks; they'll be here before we know it." While the fact warmed his heart, he was determined to stay on topic. "Anyways, the ball. I'd rather not make it about an occasion most of us don't even know about."

Alonzo perked up. "It could be a great way of helping us all learn."

"It _could..._ but think about some of our kittens... well, Mistoffelees. Tugger told me his only experience with them wasn't pleasant, so I doubt he'd be up for being involved in something that's _their_ invention."

"He likes magic." Coricopat said. He was just one of the many that was amazed by what the tuxedo kitten could do! "Is magic _not_ a human invention as well?"

"It's not!" Stated Plato. "I heard the little kit say that magic came from Bastet, the lioness goddess of Egypt."

Coricopat blinked as if he'd come to a profound realization. "Aren't _you_ Egyptian, Munkustrap?"

The Egyptian Mau was so, very sick of hearing that. "I'm British. My whole life I've been British."

"And _you're_ not actually Burmese!" Alonzo pointed out. Munkustrap sighed. It always seemed like nothing would get done at these meetings.

Coricopat said, "And _you're_ not Turkish!"

"Can we please focus?" Munkustrap chided.

—

About an hour or two later was when it was settled that the ball would take place on the twentieth; not on the fifteenth, not on Christmas. Just five days in between. That gave them plenty of extra time, they'd agreed. He went looking for his mate; she was probably resting. For a while, Demeter avoided anything that required stretching or twisting. She unfortunately wouldn't be dancing a pas de deux with him at the next ball. That didn't stop them from simple waltzes when the mood struck them. At Mr. Mistoffelees' request, Skimbleshanks brought back a record-player from his last visit to Scotland, a funny little want for a tom that despised humans. Of course, what Jellicle could deny anything that played music?

The tabby himself had never heard of humans with such funny names; Frédéric Chopin, Johannes Brahms, Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky. The couple took a liking to the latter, particularly the pieces titled _Swan Lake_. Such beauty and sadness, the tragedy of true love. Some of them were soothing enough to help Munkustrap sleep on his stressful nights. Demeter had said she wanted their kittens to hear Tchaikovsky when they were born. She wanted to sing them all the songs the girl from her human family loved to hear. Munkustrap loved to hear her sing; she taught him the duets she grew up with, and he the stories he would tell to the kittens. Someday he'd be narrating for his own.

When he found her, she was lying on their blanket licking herself clean, paying special care to her swollen belly and breasts. Munkustrap was embarrassed to walk in on her while she was preening, but Demeter hardly minded. "How'd it go?" She asked, starting to get up.

"Well enough." He said, helping her to her feet. He looked at her, smiled, and knelt down to kiss her belly. "You miss me?" He light-heartedly asked. Munkustrap had enjoyed indulging in his little urges to speak to his kittens, whether they could hear him or not. Demeter said it was a good idea to try and get them used to his voice so that they'd know who he was once they arrived. All kittens knew their mothers from their scent alone when they were born, but the fathers sometimes took time getting used to. That hadn't been the case for neither Munkustrap nor Rum Tum Tugger. They knew their father the moment they scented him. It was the scent that remained most prominent in their kittenhoods, long after they forgot their mothers. Munkustrap wished Old Deuteronomy were here to meet his first grand-kittens... especially after waiting so long to have any.

With a soft giggle, Demeter pulled Munkustrap back up. "You know what I'm in the mood for?"

He smirked, "Salmon?" Demeter rolled her eyes, having expected some sort of quip about her last midnight craving.

"Something a little more appealing." She put her arms around him.

"Trout?" Now she knew he was messing with her and ruffled his mane.

They put on Chopin. _Nocturne in C-sharp Minor_. The notes of the piano were so gentle, wistful. The two cats gently waltzed around each other, nuzzling faces and touching paws. Munkustrap kissed her paw when he carefully twirled her, not going as fast as they normally did. When he pulled her back in, he stopped just to look at her. He stroked her face. "You're so beautiful." He whispered, coming in close. They closed their eyes, touching noses. "How'd you get to be so beautiful?" He kissed her forehead, her eyelid, the bridge of her nose. It was a perfect moment.

The music stopped abruptly. "Jesus! Wouldn't you guys prefer to do this in private?" Called Rum Tum Tugger as he picked up the needle with his tail. The moment was gone.

Disgruntled, Munkustrap rolled his eyes and let go of Demeter. "Hello, _Tugger_." Shouldn't be surprised – this wasn't the first time he'd interrupted a nice tryst between them. Munkustrap would do the same to Tugger if he was actually _around_ during his flirting sessions. "What is it?"

He swaggered over. "Nothin'! Just came to say hey to my big bro." He stepped over to Demeter, "And my favorite sister, of course."

 _"In law."_ She corrected.

"And we can't forget little Tugger the second, Tugger the third, and Tugger the fourth, fifth, and sixth!" He playfully gestured to Demeter's kitten bump, which in return got him a tickled simper from her.

Munkustrap folded his arms. "No way are we naming our kittens after you."

"Yeah, I figured. There can only be one, anyway." He agreed, swishing his tail. Demeter couldn't help but laugh; she'd known he would say that. She sat back down and Munkustrap was overwhelmingly aware of Tugger's... perkiness.

"You're in a spry mood. Where've you been this morning?"

Tugger gave him the same answer as always, "Up and about." Munkustrap didn't care to ask _why_ he was in such a good mood, but his gut feeling gave him a pretty good idea. He hopped onto a small heap of rubbish to lie on. "How'd that meeting go?"

"It went fine. We moved the ball to December twentieth."

For once, his brother gave a nod of genuine approval. "That's not that bad."

"Yeah, but the problem is they're saying by the human year's end, they want to have my coronation." Demeter furrowed her brow; when was he planning to mention that? "I told them I wanted to wait until after our kittens were born." He said.

"Do you think it's been long enough?" She enquired.

"I mean, it's probably been _longer_ than it should've been, but with everything else happening it—" He saw Tugger looking at him from the corner of his eye; although he knew it wouldn't matter to the Maine Coon either way, he didn't want to make him uncomfortable. They hadn't brought that topic up in a while. "I'd rather make sure we're all good and settled before I get caught up with other things."

"Well, if _you_ think—" Demeter went to stand, but found the shift in weight was _still_ catching her by surprise and went back to her bottom, "—If you think what they're saying is true, then maybe you should go ahead with it... I mean, I know it won't be easy, but I'll still have help while you're busy. Jennyanydots would step in, and I know Tugger would too." He looked at her surprised, only because he wasn't expecting to hear his name in that very sentence. She raised a brow at him, _"Right?"_

"Of course I would!" He replied, offended. "These are my nieces and nephews we're talking about." He looked at Munkustrap, "And you know I'll do anything for them once they're here, bro."

"I know that." He began to wonder about something, "Hey, Tugger, can you and I talk for a second?" As if asking for permission, both brothers looked at Demeter, who gave an assuring nod. "We won't be long." He promised her. He took his brother out of earshot where they sat in private together.

"What's up?" Asked the younger tom.

Munkustrap needed a moment to sort out where he wanted to start, what feelings he was still processing. Without looking at Tugger, he said, "I can't tell if I'm ready or not. Everytime Alonzo or someone brings it up, all I can think about is Dad." He could barely catch Tugger's expression break for a split-second; there was a reason he was trying not to look his brother in the eyes. It was hard enough for either one to _hear_ it; so seeing the effect it had on each other was absolute torture. He swallowed. "I'd still have a few more months at least... and he'd be here to watch me take his place. It just doesn't feel _right."_ He was pouring his heart out to him, but he didn't expect an emotional response. His little brother was still the only cat he felt he could spill himself out to and not be judged. Not even his mate or best friend gave him that feeling of comfort. Only he and Rum Tum Tugger had no secrets.

"Honestly, brother..." Tugger began. He decided to _try_ and offer his own opinion. "Only _you_ can decide if it's best or not to ascend now." Munkustrap knew that, but it took his own carefree brother of all people for him to hear it. The Maine Coon was refraining from saying something sarcastic or silly as a means to dampen his own discomfort. Humor was how he normally dealt with things, but he knew that now wasn't the best time. He'd learned many times that sometimes cracking a joke during a sensitive discussion didn't always help the mood; but he _had_ to, otherwise he'd shut down completely. At least it was only Munkustrap, the tom he knew best. "It's not _wrong_ if you do." He affirmed to him. "It was going to be your place no matter what."

There was silence. Munkustrap now had something else bothering him.

"Bro?"

Munkustrap took a shallow sip of breath. "Do you think I'm gonna be a good father?"

Tugger was taken aback. "Sure I do." He quickly answered. "You're great with the kittens we _already_ got."

"But none of them are _mine._ I've been so scared even though I'm excited."

"I'm sure any tom who's had a kitten would tell you the same thing. _Believe_ me... I've met _many_ toms with pregnant mates." He snorted. "That's what they get for not making sure they're spayed." He muttered between his teeth. Unfortunately, Munkustrap didn't crack any sort of smile. He could tell, like he'd suspected, that this was not the time for jokes.

The silver tabby had wanted to bring this up with his brother, but lately hadn't had the courage or heart to throw it on him. But today it was feeling much-needed. He bit his lip and abated his nervousness. "Do you miss Dad...?" He said in a low voice. Tugger didn't respond. Already his body language was showing that he'd rather melt into a puddle than have this conversation. He went cold all over. "I'm sorry, I know—"

"No, it's fine." He interrupted. "I do." He forced out in a single hiss of breath. "I do, a lot." There. That was his side of the discussion. Done. Now he just had to listen, which was sometimes _harder._

"It's like I go through periods where I think I'm fine, but then I start thinking about him again. The most simple thing will remind me of him and I'll feel like someone's punched me in the gut." He finally mustered up the strength to turn to his brother, who had gone silent. He was looking at the ground. "I never really ask you if _you're_ doing okay." He confessed. Normally, Munkustrap just _knew_ when Tugger was all right or not, but as of late he was doubting his own ability to assess people's emotions. He was constantly double-checking things were okay between him and others, even when he'd done nothing wrong. Tugger wasn't perturbed by his unusual behavior; he knew where it was coming from.

"I'm doing fine." He said. "I mean, some mornings feel... empty. Like nothing feels worth doing." He cleared his throat. "But I get over it pretty quickly." He insisted with a swift change of tone. "It's just a short sort of _wave_ that hits me sometimes."

Munkustrap was nodding. "Yeah. I know how that feels." While he wasn't saying it, Munkustrap's eyes showed just how much it meant to him that he could speak this way with his brother; how much that Tugger was at least _trying_ to reach out in the same way, or just giving some sort of indication he was listening. He was grateful to still have him.

"You're not gonna try and give me a hug or anything, are you?" Tugger returned to normal volume.

Munkustrap shook his head, grinning. "Nope."

"Thank God. I'm out of here." And the large tom hopped down from his seat. He _had_ to end it with something flippant, otherwise he'd spend the rest of the day in a suspended state of discomfort and awkwardness.


	4. Dark Art

**Munkustrap**

Fire clung onto his fur like a python's grip; smoke seething from the open burns that tore through his skin. He could not cry in pain; for it was too much to even try and writhe free from the flames that engulfed him. All he could see was smoke; dark, black plumes taking the shape of faces he knew, of what he lost. Finally, in desperation, he tried to cry out. His brother and mate did not answer him, nor did any other name he shrieked for. His best hope was for rain, but the Everlasting Cat was unmerciful to the poor tom.

He begged and pleaded. He knew he would die someday, but not like this! A slow, painful death was the worst way to go. Finally, someone took him by the shoulders and shook him like mad. The flames dissipated and the smoke cleared. Demeter had come to him, only now he could see there was no fire anywhere to be found. It was a beautiful autumn night. Cool air and chirping crickets. The first things to greet him were his wife's worried eyes, she was holding his face.

At last, he was free to breathe. His heart banged like a drum in his chest and gave no signs of slowing.

"Shhh." Demeter caressed him, "It's okay. You were dreaming." She whispered. Munkustrap was still finding himself going through a reality checklist. He was home with his wife on their blanket. It was early November. His tribe was safe, and they were alone. Demeter lowered back down beside him and took him in her arms.

"Did I scream?"

"No, but you were trying." Immediately could she recall the stunted cries trapped behind his lips. They were terrible. When the nightmares came back, they were without respite. But they always went away, and so Demeter knew this would not be forever.

The very notion of sleep seemed to disturb him. The dream had been so cruelly slow; too much time to feel every scrap of skin flake off of his bones. Munkustrap held her close, faces gently pressed against each other's. Demeter stroked his cheek and quietly tried to put together what might've caused the dreams to return. It could easily be the fact alone that it was just the grief still running it's course, but the timing felt oddly specific. The night before, Munkustrap had gone to bed with the meeting on his mind; in these meetings, he _knew_ that the subject of his ascension would come up. Not even Demeter spoke about it with him.

This was a painfully normal occurrence for them throughout the months. She said to him, "Do you want to hear about _my_ dream?" He looked at her sadly; had her sleep been troubled as well? Instead, her eyes glowed warmly. "I dreamt about our kittens. There were five of them... and they were so beautiful. One of them had bright blue eyes like yours." Munkustrap's gaze softened. Instead of envy, he took comfort in her gentle sleep. He felt her belly; somewhere were their little ones waiting to come out and see them. Sweet little creatures that would know love the moment they felt their mother's touch. Their father's as well. He would make sure they knew how loved they were, how wanted and cherished they would be to them.

Part of him hoped he could have a sweet dream like hers had been, but he felt that now because he wanted it, it wouldn't happen. All he could ask for was just a decent night's rest. The arms of sleep took him again, and though he dreamed, it was much more tolerable. His father was there, and they were in a small field. It was nothing like the world Munkustrap had spent his life so far in; trees, hedges, bright blue sky stretching over them. He was helping Old Deuteronomy up a steep hill; a large oak tree was beckoning them. "Now son," he began, "pay attention. Keep your eye on what you're doing. Listen. Watch." Munkustrap recognized these instructions. They were the exact things his father told him when he started his lessons at just eleven cat years old.

When Old Deuteronomy reached for the oak tree, the branches and leaves took him. His body vanished in the wind, but Munkustrap had not been ready. What did he need to listen and watch for? Why did he leave him when he still needed him? As if he were still the clueless, helpless kitten he'd been on his first day in training to be tribe leader, he cried out for his father and pleaded him to come back. He was scared without him. The leaves on the branches were swept away, and the tom was left completely alone in the meadow. When the tabby opened his eyes, instead of a tear-stained mess, Munkustrap was calm. An odd feeling of relief and serenity washed over him to find that he had his mate in his arms; their kittens safe in her womb. Strangely enough, knowing that his father was up in the heaviside layer, away from the pressures of waking life, brought him ease as well.

Demeter was still sleeping, the dawn was just now breaking. The sky was a placid blue, birds singing their morning chorus. Munkustrap understood—he would listen and watch. He would pay careful attention to everything that went on in this tribe. It was what he must do from this point on.

* * *

 **Mungojerrie**

The morning shift workers were just about to arrive to open up the shop. By the time they did, the Bengal twins had already made their escape with their treasures. Cats could do nothing with human money, but they could revel in the small trinkets they'd collected. They knew well that their hijinks were no secret. In fact, they had made their own song just to let everyone know who they were.

 _Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer  
_ _We're a notorious couple of cats!  
_ _As knockabout clowns, quick-change comedians  
_ _Tight-rope walkers and acrobats!_

 _We have an extensive reputation  
_ _We make our home in Victoria Grove  
_ _This is merely our centre of operation  
_ _For we are incurably given to rove!  
_

 _We are very well known in Cornwall Gardens  
_ _In Launceston Place and in Kensington Square  
_ _We have really a little more reputation  
_ _Than a couple of cats can very well bear_

 _If the area window is found ajar  
_ _And the basement looks like a field of war  
_ _If a tile or two comes loose on the roof  
_ _Which presently fails to be waterproof_

 _If the drawers are pulled out from the bedroom chest  
_ _And you can't find one of your winter vests  
_ _If after supper one of the girls  
_ _Suddenly misses her Woolworth pearls..._

 _The family will say, "It's that horrible cat!  
_ _It was Mungojerrie or Rumpleteazer!"  
_ _And most of the time they leave it at that!_

 _Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer  
_ _Have a very unusual gift of the gab_

 _We are highly efficient cat burglars as well  
_ _And remarkably smart at a smash and grab!_

 _We make our home in Victoria Grove  
_ _We have no regular occupation  
_ _We are plausible fellows who like to engage  
_ _A friendly policeman in conversation_

 _When the family assembles for Sunday dinner  
_ _With their minds made up that they won't get thinner  
_ _On Argentine joint, potatoes and greens  
_ _And the cook will appear from behind the scenes_

 _And say in a voice that is broken with sorrow,  
_ _"I'm afraid you must wait and have dinner tomorrow!  
_ _For the joint has gone from the oven like that!"  
_ _The family will say, "It's that horrible cat!  
_ _It was Mungojerrie or Rumpleteazer!"_

 _And most of the time they leave it at that!_

 _Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer  
_ _have a wonderful way of working together!_

 _And some of the time you would say it was luck  
_ _And some of the time you would say it was weather!_

 _We go through the house like a hurricane  
_ _And no sober person could take his oath_

 _Was it Mungojerrie or Rumpleteazer?  
_ _Or could you have sworn that it mightn't be both?_

 _And when you hear a dining room smash  
_ _Or up from the pantry there comes a loud crash  
_ _Or down from the library there comes a loud ping  
_ _From a vase that was commonly said to be Miiiiiiiiiiinnnnng..._

 _The family will say: "Now which was which cat?_

 _It was Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer!"_

 _And there's nothing at all to be done about that!_

Now, there might be _some_ exaggerations to their jig, but what good song didn't? No, they didn't live in Victoria Grove, nor had they been to Kensington as many times as they claimed, but they _were_ well-versed in the art of crime and burglary. All that mattered was that they knew their craft. If anyone needed supplies quick and easy, Mungojerrie was there to deliver... just don't ask him where and how he got them. Rumpleteazer worked her magic a different way. While she was five minutes older, Mungojerrie still claimed himself to be the smarter one, and she wouldn't argue with that.

The heists were usually all _his_ to plan, and he took great pride in his well-thought out schemes and routines he had when sweeping or pickpocketing. Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer had to be swift and cunning in their endeavors, so much that they in fact _preferred_ their reputation as annoying-but-harmless oafs. Now how could such silly, simple-minded Jellicles be capable of these crimes? They obviously had someone helping them out... but no, it was only the twins using each other's sets of skills to their advantage.

Sometimes, though, Rumpleteazer would get so excited about their success or high in the moment of their evil little plots that she would _not_ _stop giggling!_

"Do you _want_ us to get caught?" Mungojerrie hissed.

"Sorry, sorry!" She bit her lip and tried to suppress her smile.

They already had their bags of loot over their shoulders, now all that mattered was getting back home so they could go marvel over their prizes. Jewelry from the local boutique – they'd just had a new shipment come in, but it looked like the shop would now be on backorder. The only reason Mungojerrie didn't like anyone seeing them running home with large bags of _something_ in their grasp was because he _knew_ that there were other cats as greedy as themselves. The Jellicles didn't care about their 'hobbies,' and Munkustrap _tolerated_ it at most, only because Old Deuteronomy had already graciously let them into the tribe by the time he realized they were more than just your average kleptomaniac.

"We're like _Ocean's Eleven!_ Except we're only _two_ cats." Rumpleteazer exclaimed giddily.

Mungojerrie scoffed. "Oh yes." He mimicked the voice of one of their old owners. _"It was perhaps Lewis Milestone's greatest piece."_ He said through his teeth, remembering how the man used to always have some sort of cigar in his mouth. _"The Rat Pack, of course, helped bring this movie to light because of the group's popularity at the time. A common tactic producers use to win over audiences today!"_ Now Rumpleteazer's laughter was appropriate. He nailed his hateful impression of the old man – he'd had plenty of time to practice.

Rumpleteazer, of course, perfected the wife's voice. _"Gerold, do you suppose_ we _could go to Vegas?"_

 _"Dear, I've never had enough luck for Vegas. After all, I'm married to_ you!"

The twins snickered and threw their duffle bags over the junkyard fence. Mungojerrie gave Rumpleteazer a boost so she could hop over first. "Do you think they traveled to the States after we ran off?" The queen wondered. "They'd been to at least _one_ overseas festival while we were there."

"Whoever is dumb enough to invite those lowlifes definitely deserves their pretentious opinions." Retorted the Bengal tom. "I wonder if he finally had that stroke he always claimed we were going to give him."

"If he did, it's a shame we never saw it." Rumpleteazer sniped. They believed that a borough called _Hackney_ suited their humans well. Dalston was the name of the place they'd once called home. They were born in a storm drain, and were the only two of six kittens to survive, and that remained the case twenty-four cat years later. It was late March when they came into the world, but the twins had been together since before they left their mother's womb. They didn't remember her face or smell, but they recalled each other being there since the very beginning, and they would be with one another until the very end. That was what they'd decided – nothing in this cruel world would tear them apart, no matter how many times they tempted it to.

"Brother," she suddenly said, "do you suppose that Munkustrap will throw us out once he's leader?"

"I doubt it. Munkustrap's a good lad. At most, he'll probably just ask us to keep our _outside_ business elsewhere. I don't blame him; he's got kittens coming."

"He tries to be like his father was." Thought she, "And his father was a good tom. I still feel sorry for him when I think about it." She lamented with a sorrowful look. "Imagine it. Having to _watch_ your own father die." She shivered all over. Her fur ruffled up. "I feel ill just thinking about it!" Rumpleteazer quickly distracted herself by rummaging through the glittering earrings and necklaces they'd taken. To this day she wore the old woman's pearl necklace as her collar of choice. A thoughtful memento to remind herself that she could steal whatever she pleased. The woman's most precious item, in fact... more precious than Rumpleteazer had been to her.

Her words had sparked an out-of-nowhere revelation in Mungojerrie. "Teazer, I'm beginning to think that we ought to give him an easier time." She immediately turned away from her prize to give him a baffled look. "As in that we should stop trying to press his nerves so much. It's fun and all, but I think even _we_ should have our limits. Lad's going to be a father soon."

"Ohh, I know what you mean." She agreed. "All right. Sounds fair, but that's not gonna stop our fun."

"Of course it won't!" He replied. "Just _one_ little change to keep things tame. Won't hurt to have him off our backs anyhow." He then dumped out his share of the lot. The sound of the jewels jingling to the floor sang through his ears. Another pile to add to the collection. Becoming such master thieves was like perfecting some sort of dark art. It was no easy task when they first started, and it had not been something either twin imagined being top game at. Mungojerrie had never thought of any future for himself besides to keep doing what he does best, and Rumpleteazer was always by his side, _knowing_ her future would forever involve him in someway. She was better with things like that—she had a mind for the long-term. What might go wrong, what someone might say or do in response to _their_ behavior, how they should act in order to keep themselves beneath suspicion. And lucky for her, she was quite the consummate actress. No one would believe her skills in lying and robbing someone blind right below their noses until it was too late.

Yes, Mungojerrie enjoyed hearing her call him the smart one, but Rumpleteazer still lovingly reminded him that she was 'the better twin,' and he couldn't argue about that! Only Mungojerrie knew that his big sister was far from daft and ditzy, and only Rumpleteazer knew that he could be serious when he needed to, but so far, the only cats that had ever needed their talents was each other! Only they appreciated them; everyone else just saw them as wasteful thieves. So they threw in little tricks here or there as a means to drive them bonkers.

Did Munkustrap _really_ think they'd forget their cues to bark during _The Pekes and Pollicles_ that easily? She'd even once said to her brother that she found the tom more entertaining when he was annoyed. She teased out emotions in others, good and bad. That was _her_ dark art. The social expert to her brother's logical scheming. Rumpleteazer was much better in dealing with cats and humans than he was, and had the patience for it. Mungojerrie, meanwhile, took care of targeting their next strike, mapping out all the details, and getting things done quickly and efficiently. They had what the other did not, and they used it wisely.

It'd be nice if _someone_ were to notice what greatness they had when it came to doing what they did, but that was for another day. Perhaps another life, where such a profession would be appreciated.


	5. Control

**Rum Tum Tugger**

Approaching from the shadowed entryway, the first thing Tugger saw was his livid father and concerned brother. He knew they'd be waiting for him; it was nearly three in the morning, and no cat under eighteen was allowed away from the tribe this late... _especially_ the leader's own sons. Munkustrap shot him a silent look of warning. He was annoyed, yes, but his father was only wearing a _mask_ of calm. The Maine Coon was about to say something snide, but Old Deuteronomy beat him to it.

"Come here." He demanded with an icy tone. Tugger took about two steps forward. "Closer. I want to see your face." With a hardened glare of disdain, Tugger walked in front of him and let Old Deuteronomy inspect him. He turned him left and right by his chin, examined his neck. "You're not hurt..."

Tugger swiped his paw away. "Of course I'm not hurt!" He wasn't some pet!

"Tugger," Munkustrap started, but Old Deuteronomy held his paw up.

"Where have you been tonight? You said you'd be home before curfew."

"Does it matter where I've been?"

"Of course. You're my son!" He exclaimed. Tugger only stared. "Fine. What have you been doing? Is that a more appropriate question?" The teenaged tom turned away, looking off at the surrounding buildings. "Rum Tum Tugger." There he went with the full name weapon, but he dared not speak. He only cared about what he was doing when it made _him_ look bad; he didn't care about whether he was actually safe or not! Old Deuteronomy put his face in his paw and sighed. "Good gracious you're a stubborn lion. But what's seldom known is that lions _know_ their limits. They're not so proud as to spread their whiskers and roar in the face of defeat. They accept it with humility."

 _Really. In what life were_ you _ever a lion?_ Tugger was thinking spitefully. Besides, his old man didn't know anything about him. He was not a lion, nor did he care to try and be one. He was a leopard. His emerald eyes darted subtly over to his brother, who had his head bowed submissively. _Coward._ The only time _either_ of them wanted to have a chat with him was when he was causing trouble—sad to say that _this_ was what it had come to just to get to 'bond' with his own family. But even then it wasn't because they cared about him... _always_ about themselves.

Would it not have been better if he'd never been born?

The Norwegian Forest tom had enough. "For someone who often has much to say, you're being awfully silent."

"What would you _like_ me to say?" He sniped, "That I'm sorry and it won't happen again? I thought you wanted your kittens to be _honest_ toms."

"I at least _expect_ tolerable behavior from you, my boy! Do you take pleasure in knowing I'm here worrying about you? Thinking something might've happened?"

"I can look after myself! It's not like you'd know; you're too busy dolling up your _better_ son!"

Old Deuteronomy stood up angrily and Munkustrap could not but look bewildered. Yes, he knew Tugger had meant it as an offense, but Munkustrap realized that it came from a place of hurting... he knew his brother better than the young tom would ever think.

"Young man—"

"—Don't 'young man' me!" He snapped loudly, "I've been carrying my own weight _just_ as much as you have!" But then he felt it. Shit. _Shit, not now!_ That sting of emotion. Tears searching for a way to demean him. Leopards didn't cry. _He_ didn't cry. What did weeping like a helpless kitten accomplish? It mocked his pride. Turn it into anger instead... no, anger was what _lured_ the tears. Any sliver of feeling he allowed would invite them. He had to be stone cold, at least for right now.

What amazed him was that he'd managed to render the old tom speechless. Did he just have some sort of revelation, or was he just trying to figure out how to respond? "You're as defiant as they come. You'd make a fine Jellicle if you'd just listen for once in this life!"

"Listen to _what?_ When have you ever had anything to say to me?"

"You give me a great deal to say to you when you act this way. Makes me think you're no good for anything else."

 _"Dad."_ Munkustrap suddenly chided; he could not stand by idly upon hearing such cruel words, not even from his own father. Tugger didn't even give him a chance to speak up.

"How about this?" The tears were coming. He had to make this quick. "When you need me, you come find me instead of waiting around to see if I'll come back!" Veiling his misery, Tugger vaulted over the gates and ran. Munkustrap was about to give chase, but he was held back by Old Deuteronomy.

 _"Tugger!"_ Called his brother, but it fell on deaf ears.

—

Waking up suddenly, Rum Tum Tugger almost fell out of the tree he was resting in. Gripping the branch and fixing his mane, he blinked lazily and realized it was much earlier than when he usually rose. It had been such a deep sleep that he hadn't even noticed it passing him by at all; he remembered blinking and it being morning. He'd gone to bed completely _wiped out._ He'd put on quite the performance for his crowd the evening before. He sang Joy Division; feeling a bit bluesy and energetic at once. The queens exhausted their own vocal chords more than _he_ had. Tugger rarely liked to listen to the same artist back-to-back, needing some variety in his musical indulgences, but they kept calling him. It was one of his first 'oldies' albums he'd listened to. He could say what he wanted about humans, but some of them could make magic with music. Ian Curtis was an alchemist. David Bowie was a mage. Freddie Mercury was a sorcerer. And that didn't scratch the surface of his extensive knowledge and admiration for human musicians.

Human songs used to be frowned upon by free felines; it demeaned their own traditions of song-writing and giving themselves personal ballads... but was that not what humans were doing as well? Tugger was grateful he was born in the time he lived in—for he'd be lost without these strange ones called rockstars. His father never understood his fascination with the genre, but he nonetheless tolerated it. As long as it kept him busy and happy. Funnily, Bowie hadn't been the tom's first introduction to human rock n' roll.

It was Prince.

Tugger liked his charm and sense of humor; his songs were flirtatious, yet unconventional. Now there was a human that could make the most of what he had. He was fourteen when he came on the radio of the broken car. It was the first time he'd ever fixated on something and wanted more of it. For once, something didn't scold him. It only sang to him while he listened. The first year he got to perform at the Jellicle Ball was when he sang _Little Red Corvette_. The cats could've actually heard how good he was if the girl weren't screaming over him... but he liked it that way. The entirety of the tribe only paid attention if he was performing, so he'd make sure they knew who was most-loved around here. At that time, his sex-appeal had flourished. He wasn't toothy little Tugger anymore with awkward proportions and odd, unkempt patches of fur.

The night before had gone by in such a blitz. He could still feel the caresses and touches of the queens he let get close and already did he find himself getting a chill of pleasure from the memory. He teased the ladies at the cost of his _own_ satisfaction—he felt the overwhelming desire to mate, but he saved it for later just to ensure no one thought he was an easy catch. Mistoffelees had lovingly called him a terrible bore since he never let any of his admirers get as close as they liked, but he reminded him that was the point.

Months earlier in the summer, he was lazing underneath the shade of a tree while Mistoffelees had climbed up high to grab some leaves for his next... 'experiment.'

"If the queens think you're easy, then they won't have any fun trying to catch you."

"Isn't that a little harsh?" Mistoffelees called.

"Nah. They usually like it. Very few have gotten lucky." He smirked, adjusting his belt. A couple leaves fell on his face and fur and he swatted at them. "Kid, what're you trying to find anyway?"

"Lobed leaves!"

He licked his paw and cleaned his mane. "What-ed whats?"

The teenage tuxedo grunted as he climbed another branch; he still wasn't the most _active_ when it came to these endeavors. "Just a special type of leaf I'm going to need for my new trick later." Tugger was tempted to ask, but he didn't want to know. "Why do these all look the same?" He shouted, aggravated. Tugger chuckled slightly. "I can hear you laughing!"

"I'm not laughing!" He replied with a wide beam.

"I'm up here being incredibly clever. The least you can do is act impressed!"

Tugger lied back in the grass. "If you find what you're looking for, I will be." He got comfy while Mistoffelees proceeded higher. Just as he believed he'd spotted what he'd long searched for, the branch underneath him snapped and got whipped upside down; only his tail saved him. There was nothing else for him to grab on and his fur was tangled in the greenery.

"Tugger?" He yelled with worry. The Maine Coon opened his eyes. "Um... I may have a situation!"

Damn it. Now he had to get up. He rolled his eyes. "Hang tight. I'm comin'."

"Okay..." He could barely keep his eyes open; all the blood was rushing to his head. "You think you'll be up here before I pass out? It took me ten full minutes to climb all the way up—"

"—Peekaboo."

"WHA!" Not expecting for his face to be half-an-inch away, Mistoffelees flung himself backwards and wounded upright on the branch below him. Tugger busted out laughing. Mistoffelees flattened his ears and grimaced.

"Christ, don't give me that look." He playfully ruffled his head, "I've been climbing my entire life. You'll get better."

"Yeah, well." He muttered. They both hopped back down to ground level and Mistoffelees rummaged through the pile he'd created. None of them were what he needed.

"You think you'll be done soon? It's hot and I'd like us to go find some water."

"Just shake some of that fuzz off, you'll be fine."

"Tsh. This is nothing! You haven't seen me in the winter yet, buddy." Mistoffelees froze in his tracks and Tugger arched a brow. "Hm? Kid?" Nothing. Had something spooked him? "Kid, you okay?" He waved a paw in front of his face to bring him back. "Lost you there for a second."

"Yeah, sorry."

"...Did I say something?"

"Kind of. When you said 'winter' it made me think of this one song made by a H-U-"

"Kid. The spelling?"

"You know, _them._ There's one called _Winter_ by Vivaldi. Reminded me of it is all."

Tugger cringed, "Oh, um... I'm sorry?"

"No. It's a good memory. Sort of. It was one of the first pieces of music I ever heard. It just feels weird that something so nice could've come from one them."

"Believe it or not, kiddo, not _all_ humans are evil... you were just put in a bad place with bad people." He replied. "It's like getting scratched by _one_ rat and hating all of... actually, bad example. That's like saying you get chased off by _one_ dog and— Wait, hang on." Tugger never _was_ that good with analogies, or whatever it was his father called them. "You get my idea." He answered succinctly.

"Easy for you to say." Mistoffelees bit.

Tugger looked at him knowingly and propped up his vest. "Is it now? Look how evil _cats_ can be to each other." Without even realizing it, Tugger had made his point. The adolescent now understood... but that didn't mean he'd accept it so easily. Tugger licked his lips and strutted off; the dehydration of summer heat was becoming unbearable. There was a fountain nearby somewhere. Mistoffelees suddenly forgot about his project and darted behind him.

"Hey, wait up!" He scurried behind his surrogate brother and joined him at the water fountain. Tugger lapped up a few big sips and Mistoffelees got distracted by the strange, gleaming objects under the water. They were coins. Tugger was used to them, but Mistoffelees was amazed. He recognized them from some of the magic tricks he practiced. Tugger started checking and stroking his own mane and fur while the teen remarked, "Honestly, why are they so wasteful with what they have?" He fished out a coin with his paw, "So many tricks they could learn with these." He looked to see the older tom wasn't listening. He was in a deep trance as he inspected himself in the water.

At first it looked like he was either looking for something or just making sure not a single fur was out of place, confusing him for a narcissist, but Mistoffelees figured it out rather quickly—he was checking his scars. Some of the puffy skin still jumped out at him and he tried to ensure that either his fur or jacket covered them.

"Don't worry about those." Mistoffelees brightened, "Scars are cool!" Tugger snorted without smiling. He backed away from the ledge and scratched the kit's head again.

"Thanks, kid." He answered without any emotion in his voice. He began to slink off, but Mistoffelees was worried that he'd said something wrong.

He zipped up in front of the tall, well-built feline. "You wanna talk?" He sat with his tail up in the air, eyes light and eager.

"It's fine. The heat's got me tired is all." He had the strange urge to pull a little prank on his small buddy. "Hey, uh, is that _Victoria_ I see over there?"

Mistoffelees whirled around and looked excitedly for the white kitten, "Where? I don't see her!" Tugger sniggered and Mistoffelees sank in humiliation.

"Aww, little buddy's crushing on one of our queens?" The tom looked bitterly at him. "Relax, buddy. You think _I'm_ gonna tell her?" The kitten started to think about something else. "Come on, I'm sorry. It was a joke, okay?"

"It's not that." He suddenly perked up at him. "How do get the girls to like you?"

The one question one would believe Rum Tum Tugger could answer right off the bat caught him off guard. "Come again?" Mistoffelees repeated his question, and still it baffled him. He never questioned _how_ he did it... It just worked out for him. Mistoffelees' expression fell. "You don't need to act like me to get Victoria's attention... honestly, I'm not sure _what_ she likes."

"You're the only tom I've seen her squeal over." He could say the same about _most_ of his female friends.

Tugger shrugged, "Well... half the time they're just screaming because everyone else is." He was downplaying it as much as possible, and Mistoffelees knew it; yet he appreciated it very much. "Kid, you're cool the way you are. Victoria or _some_ good-looking queen's gonna notice." He ruffled his ears and Mistoffelees looked like his entire world had been made. At least the Maine Coon could do _that_ much for him.

—

The leopard-spotted Jellicle greedily eyed his prey. From the trunk of the tree, he watched the rabbit chew on the dry grass. Deeply arboreal, he was the only cat in the tribe that had learned how to hunt from above—it was his more preferred method. The summer time was the best time to hunt from the trees, since animals liked to take sanctuary under their shade. If only they paid more attention...

Now it was late autumn, soon the trees would be too slippery with ice for him to climb upon. When he was a kitten, the world was his jungle, and he was a ruthless hunter. Anything that moved from a mouse to an empty bag of crisps he'd practice pouncing on. Animals were so noisy that they were easy to find, but he took using stealth seriously. His impulsive nature got the better of him, yes, but Tugger was a skilled predator. He knew his brother would be relying on him to help bring enough food for his new family soon... but by the looks of it, it'd be winter by the time they arrived, and animals were hard to chase down because there was so few of them out.

While his eyes were fixated on the feasting rabbit, his mind was somewhere else. One of last night's song was on replay in his head.

 _Confusion in her eyes that says it all._  
 _She's lost control._  
 _And she's clinging to the nearest passer by,_  
 _She's lost control._

Tugger quietly noted how he'd had Bombalurina in mind when he performed that number. A ballad for her when she wasn't even there to hear it. Why was she plaguing his thoughts now? No, perhaps this song could be put to better use. The rabbit was about to lose control. It was his fearful target.

 _And she screamed out kicking on her side and said,_  
 _I've lost control again._  
 _And seized up on the floor, I thought she'd die._  
 _She said I've lost control._

Tugger, meanwhile, had _total control_. His limbs and jaws moved feverishly as he made a downward launch for the mammal and sank his fangs deep into its ribs. It shrieked out until his deep bite silenced its cries. It fell limp in his mouth and he dropped it.

 _And she gave away the secrets of her past,_  
 _And said I've lost control again,_  
 _And a voice that told her when and where to act,_  
 _She said I've lost control again._

Then, looking at the bloody carcass that had been a living, breathing creature just moments ago, Tugger suddenly lost his appetite. He left the corpse behind for the flies and other insects to eat instead.

 _She's lost control again._  
 _She's lost control._  
 _She's lost control again._  
 _She's lost control._


	6. Corvette

**Munkustrap**

It was unusually cold today. Normally London was such a heat sink that any cool weather went unnoticed by the Jellicles. Munkustrap could count on his paw the amount of times he'd actually gotten to see and play in snow... more like white, frothy slush. Must be what the humans call the Arctic air coming through. Maybe they _would_ have a white winter this year. If so, it would be disheartening that Old Deuteronomy wouldn't get to experience it. Though, with how long he'd lived, Munkustrap was sure he'd seen _plenty_ of snow in his time. He always recommended Scotland as the place to go for beautiful winters, and Skimbleshanks would heartily agree. Dundee and Glasgow were his favorite cities to visit during the holiday months.

Munkustrap, however, would not have any time to travel, not for a while at least. There was too much here at home that had to be done, and with everything he needed being right there, what more could he want? Demeter talked about France and Germany a lot, and how just seeing it through pictures wasn't enough sometimes. There were some countries the Egyptian Mau had never heard of before meeting her, and they sounded so exotic! Laos, Greece, Turkey, Barbados... he really knew _nothing_ about how big the world was. Cats were not very inclined to travel by any other method than foot, so getting to such places would prove to be difficult unless they were to stowaway on a boat (or train much like Skimbleshanks preferred). Sometimes the idea would be enticing, but most of the time the tabby didn't want to imagine leaving home right as the cats would need him around.

Besides the crisp air, there was something else odd about this morning. The tom was just then getting rid of the overstash of rotten food when he scented it. An outsider. No, _many_ outsiders. He could pick up at least _four_ unusual smells. He did not like this. Slowly, he turned and peered through the chain-links and instinctively assumed a guarded stance, he watched and waited for the source to reveal itself. Four toms came striding down the sidewalk and towards the northern entrance; he did not like this at all. His eyes went wide and icy, blood cold all over and a low growl gurgled in his throat. If the scars that were barely covered by his fur didn't show that this tom knew how to fight, then his claws and teeth would.

Leading the group was something that made Munkustrap recoil slightly: a hairless, gaunt-looking feline came close to the perimeters. It was a Sphynx cat. Munkustrap gave a low, guttural groan of warning.

"Ah-hah..." The Sphynx sang, "So is _this_ the place of residence for the Jellicle tribe?" Munkustrap's fur gently receded flat; did he know them? "Finally, our long walk from Hammersmith is over! I'd recognize your face anyday." _Recognize?_

"Who are you?"

"Oh! Beg pardon. I am Raithen. I'm leader of the Copperkit tribe." Munkustrap had never heard of them before, though he did say they'd walked there from Hammersmith. Perhaps that was why. But how did they know of _him_ if Old Deuteronomy never mentioned these creeps by name? Munkustrap wasn't about to let his guard down that easily; his shoulders were arched and his eyes stared, unblinking. "I'm sure you're in a fine haze at the moment, but don't be alarmed!" He grinned; he was missing about four of his teeth. "We heard the grave news of what happened to your father half-a-human-year ago. Macavity's rats spread the word once they were done feeding on his corpse!" He chortled at that last statement, the silver tom had no reaction. "Tell me, lad, what's your name?"

No answer, just an uncomfortable look at the bald feline and his followers that, for some reason, did not speak.

"I hope my cohorts don't frighten you. In our culture, subjects do not speak unless permitted to." _What on earth...?_ "But I do hope our sudden arrival hasn't shaken ya too bad. I assure you, I only come here on account of giving our condolences." This all seemed so odd. To come _all_ this way just to give him some sympathy? A strangely kind act for a cat who'd never met him.

"Um... thank you." He flatly said. He licked his lips and took a step back from the fence. "I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I'll have to cut this introduction short. I've got a lot of business to take care of."

"Oh, yes! The life of a leader." At that moment, Munkustrap turned and saw Tugger about to jump over the gate. He didn't even notice they were there. _Thank God!_ "Well then, Jellicle cat without a name, I bid you good day." He tipped his head slightly and his group walked away. A curious and confused Rum Tum Tugger approached.

"Annnnddd _who_ was that, brother?" He watched them leave with equal suspicion.

"I have no idea. He said he heard about our father and wanted to give their respects."

Tugger winced. "They knew him?" Munkustrap shrugged. "Well, it looks like they're going now."

"I _hope_ so."

—

Munkustrap brought Demeter a tossed-out can of venison formula for breakfast. It had been her old favorite when she was still a housecat. He quietly came close and brushed his cheek across hers. "Good morning." He purred. She stirred, opened her eyes, and wiped the sleep dust from the corners. "You sleep well?"

She hummed, "Mhm." And stretched. She let out a slight groan, "I don't wanna get up. Can I please just lie here today?"

"Jennyanydots says it's good to move around while you're expecting."

"Well what does _she_ know? She's only had, like... _seven_ kittens."

Munkustrap chuckled and helped her off the blanket, "Come onnn." She made annoyed grunts in retaliation and he mimicked her. The small things that they thought were charming and romantic. Once she got a taste of her nostalgic treat did she perk up. She didn't realize how hungry she was until she actually started eating. It seemed like nothing could make her feel full these days. Munkustrap swallowed his food as he realized something. "Five weeks."

Demeter was stunned; her eyes widened. "You're right." She counted, "So about another month and they'll be here." She felt a jolt of excitement and worry hit her at once. "How many boys and girls do you think there will be?"

"If we're lucky, three girls and three boys. That way we each get half." He teased.

"We haven't even thought of names yet! And that's serious if they're going to be Jellicle kittens."

"It'll come to us when they're born. That's how my dad said it works."

"What if it doesn't?" She enquired.

"It will." He insisted. "We'll know once we see them." Demeter gave him a loving smile. She felt her bump for the kittens moving. "Do you think they'll look more like you or me?"

She pursed her lip, "Knowing _our_ luck, neither of us. They'll look like an old, lost relative or something." But then she said, "I think they'll look more like you."

"Why's that?"

"I dunno... I just notice kittens tend to take after their fathers. I don't know _personally_ about mine, but seeing you and—" She cut herself off. Munkustrap wrinkled his brow.

"And what?"

She cleared her throat and paused for a moment before saying, "You and your father looked alike is what I'm saying." She lowered her head shyly. The tom wasn't as perturbed as she'd worried he'd be.

"I got that a lot growing up. But I have my mother's eyes from what I know... I mean, _his_ eyes weren't blue, so it wasn't from him! Tugger looks like Dad too, but honestly, no one really got to see them together enough to realize it."

Demeter hesitated before asking, "Did you think Tugger's mother was your mother as well?"

"Honestly, even memories of _her_ are kind of foggy. I can remember her being pregnant with Tugger, the day he was born... but not much else. I think we were both kind of kept distant from her on purpose because our Dad knew she wouldn't be around for long." He came to this conclusion right as he stated it. "That way we weren't too attached when she moved on."

"I suppose that makes sense..." Demeter added, although she wasn't too clear on the whole situation. She reached over and took his paw. "At least we'll _both_ be here to take care of our kittens."

Munkustrap had not _once_ doubted this fact. "Of course we will." The calico was now pondering something else regarding his father's love life.

"Did... Do you think your father ever _loved_ his mates? Or were they all just to bear heirs?" The question, though harsh objectively, came from a place of inquisition. It's not like this was something the tabby had not wondered for himself before. He bit his lip as he thought about husband answer.

"Surely he had to have _a little_... The moment you and I, you know, I just couldn't imagine it happening any other way. I guess after having something done a certain way for so long, you can't imagine any different." Another example he could use was that he was _positive_ Tugger didn't 'love' any of the girls he mated. All he needed was to be in the right mood with the right queen. It had never been that way for the tabby; chaste until he met the one true love of his life, and now she sat before him, bearing what would be the most important cats in the world.

* * *

 **Bombalurina**

There she went again; the pregnant calico that had taken up residence in _her_ abode. Loitering in her usual spot, the Somali watched her waddle over to the group of kittens where Jellylorum and Jennyanydots were supervising. It was sickening how jovial they got every time she approached; they swished all around her and she'd give them soft pats. The tiny queens that called her 'angel.'

Huh. An angel that came flouncing in uninvited and stealing all the attention. Ever since Demeter's arrival, hardly any of the toms wanted to even _look_ Bombalurina's way. Some would have to pull each other by the tail and remind them that she was Munkustrap's mate... that wouldn't stop them from ogling. The red-coated queen even secretly hoped that the weight-gain from her pregnancy would take away that petite-treat figure... but while the bump was very much there, the rest of her hardly grew a fraction. When everyone went to congratulate her after her and Munkustrap's announcement, Bombalurina only watched from afar—Demeter spotted her looking disdainfully and her proud smile shifted for just a moment. Her sour look was not enough to break her spirit.

She hoped that with time, Demeter would learn which queen was most-adored around here, but apparently Bombalurina wasn't fit for her to figure it out by now. The dratted calico was now the favorite of _all four_ kittens. They were eager to feel her bump for a kick or paw and discuss names for them. They desperately wanted to be her helper once they were born. Gone were the days they'd follow Bombalurina around and ask her when _they_ would become tall and gorgeous, questions about Rum Tum Tugger, and marvel at the slightest movement of her tail. Every time Demeter tried to approach her, Bombalurina would quit the area in a huff—she had _no_ problems in showing that she didn't want to be friends.

It befuddled the calico greatly. "I don't think Bombalurina's too fond of me." She once told Jellylorum while they were helping her file her claws.

"I don't think that's the case, love. She's always been an independent one. Don't take it personally if she doesn't want to talk."

Demeter curved her lip in a sneer, "My brother-in-law would have something to say about that."

Jennyanydots finished checking her left paw. She pat it gently with hers, "I wouldn't worry about it. Give her some time and she'll come to you."

"I don't _mind_ that she doesn't want to talk... I'd just like to no the reason _why._ Is it because I used to be a housecat? Because I'm mates with her future leader? I know that doesn't make me any better or worse than her!"

 _"Demeeeterrrrr!"_ A distressed Jemima came crawling over with her three friends behind her. "Tell them! Tell them I'm right!"

Demeter tried to hide a smile; she was being so serious! "Right about what?"

"That it was _Snow White_ that was saved by true love's kiss! Not Sleeping Beauty!" Demeter snickered—this had been her own fault. The kittens were fascinated by the fairytales Demeter had watched when she was their age; they knew nothing of human films or what a 'Disney' was. Of course she loved to talk about them, they were such fond memories for her.

"Well... you're not _wrong."_ At that, Jemima nodded confidently at the girls. _"But..."_ The kittens all turned back with surprise. "They were _both_ awakened by a kiss. Snow White's was love's _first_ kiss. Aurora was true love's. But they were both the same thing." Electra stuck her tongue out at Jemima.

"How do you know so much?" Asked Victoria.

"My human watched the videos almost every day with me. You start to memorize a thing or two after a while."

Etcetera pushed her way to the front. "Which one ate the poison apple?"

"Snow White. She was _tricked_ into it, you see. The wicked queen disguised herself as a peddler so that she'd be tempted."

"So what happens in _Sleeping Beauty_?"

Demeter looked at the two queens at her sides with a knowing grin. She'd gained quite a few tricks from her husband in storytelling; ways to make it exciting, engaging, frightening. Not yet constrained by any pregnancy, Demeter slowly rose from her seat.

"When the king and queen had their baby named Aurora, they held a _big_ celebration. Everyone in the kingdom was invited... all but _one."_ She took a pause; pauses were important, he'd said. "At the christening, three fairies came bearing gifts for the little princess. _One_ gave her the gift of song. The other, the gift of beauty."

Jemima raised her tail, "Like you!"

Demeter blushed. "And then the third fairy fluttered up to the cradle, ready to give _her_ gift... but then, out of nowhere, _the doors bursted open!_ A great wind tore through the ballroom and the people went silent!" The kittens listened with wide, worried eyes. "Appearing from the darkness, tall and mighty... with horns and long, gangly nails was the wicked sorceress... _Maleficent!"_ She came in close so that the girls started huddling together. _"'Well, well.'_ She said... 'quite a glittering assemblage King Stefan. Royalty, nobility, the gentry, and... oh, how quaint. Even the rabble.'" She gave a sinister leer, getting into full-character. Munkustrap would be proud! "Now, you might be wondering just _why_ she arrived to the celebration uninvited... but that's just the reason! Maleficent had not been invited to one of the most important ceremonies of the kingdom... and no sorceress will tolerate such a disrespect." The kittens all flattened their ears and looked fearful. The elder queens weren't sure they liked where this was going. "So, slamming her scepter against the floor, she shouted: 'Listen well, all of you! The princess shall indeed grow in grace and beauty, beloved by all who know her. But... before the sun sets on her sixteenth birthday, she shall prick her finger on the spindle of a spinning wheel – and DIE!"

All four kittens went scrambling, screaming their heads off. None gave Demeter a chance to calm them down.

"Wait! The ending's... much... happier." They were already hiding. Perhaps she could use a few more lessons from her husband.

Jellylorum was so near laughing that she almost couldn't speak. "I think you oughta work on that one a bit before you tell it to your kittens at night." Demeter cringed uncomfortably and hurried off to look for them. Her Maleficent impression had just been _that_ good. Off to the side, Bombalurina had been watching the spectacle and was sniggering to herself. She could've handled them _much_ better than that hussy had.

Honestly, what was she doing that _she_ couldn't do ten times better? She indeed better leave the bedtime stories to Munkustrap. Of course, there were moments where Bombalurina was unable to feel anything but endeared when she saw the two together, kissing and cuddling. Then she'd catch them being silly and laughing, wanting to be that way with someone. All the toms here had attempted to court her at one point, and while she flirted, she didn't give any of them an inch... except _one_.

Bombalurina was eighteen when she decided to do some traveling. At the time, she didn't have any interest in mating and starting a family, and Old Deuteronomy understood her need. He permitted her to go, and promised her that she would be welcomed back once she came around. She remembered little Tugger; eleven, spirited, wild, like any pre-teen tom. They'd interacted sparingly; she was an adult and he was still a kitten – two strikingly different worlds. He noticed when she left the tribe, but wasn't all that upset about it. Nine or ten cat years she spent discovering, experimenting, venturing what new things awaited her as she explored her own identity regarding her ambitions and sexuality.

Frankly, she missed the attention of the toms she knew growing up, but also enjoyed having new faces try and swoon her as well. These pleasures were only short-lived, and her lustful hunger proved to be insatiable. When she made her way back to the West End, she realized how much she'd missed home when all of her, now fully-grown, familiar faces came rushing over to greet her. She swelled at the attention and was told that she was just in time for their annual Jellicle Ball. When it came time for performances, she got a special seat in the front, thanks to Old Deuteronomy's kindness. The older queens marveled at how beautiful she'd become, and some of the toms were drooling from a single meter away. Ah, yes. This was what she'd longed for. She couldn't wait to break their hearts after.

The song came on, and Bombalurina watched with little interest, since she'd seen _plenty_ of tom concerts at this rate. Nothing particularly struck her about this number until the tom came swaggering out.

 _I guess I should of known_  
 _By the way you parked your car sideways_  
 _That it wouldn't last_  
 _See you're the kinda person_  
 _That believes in makin' out once_  
 _Love 'em and leave 'em fast_

His voice was strong and his dancing was well-rehearsed. The young queens crawled up to the ledge of the stage, mewing and gyrating to every movement of his hips. Their own tails were waggling.

 _I guess I must be dumb_  
 _'Cause you had a pocket full of horses_  
 _Trojan and some of them used_  
 _But it was Saturday night_  
 _I guess that makes it all right_  
 _And you say what have I got to lose?_  
 _And honey I say_

 _Little red Corvette_  
 _Baby you're much too fast_  
 _Little red Corvette_  
 _You need a love that's gonna last_

 _I guess I should of closed my eyes_  
 _When you drove me to the place_  
 _Where your horses run free_  
 _'Cause I felt a little ill_  
 _When I saw all the pictures_  
 _Of the jockeys that were there before me_

The tom of nineteen or twenty performed well, concentrating... then he looked right at Bombalurina and smiled; a lazy, insolent smirk. She leaned forward... and suddenly it struck her like the flash of a diamond. Bombalurina knew those green eyes anywhere.

He took his tail and swung it in perfect circles, the kittens all jumped to try and grab it. Bombalurina remained right where she was seated; transfixed.

 _Believe it or not_  
 _I started to worry_  
 _I wondered if I had enough class_  
 _But it was Saturday night_  
 _I guess that makes it all right_  
 _And you say, "Baby, have you got enough gas?"_  
 _Oh yeah_

 _Little red Corvette_  
 _Baby you're much to fast, yes you are_

In a fluid grace, he winked at her. Perhaps it was her imagination, but everything about the song suddenly felt hypnotic. The screeching fanclub disappeared entirely and all she could focus on was Rum Tum Tugger, all grown up. _Spellbound._

 _Little red Corvette_  
 _You need to find a love that's gonna last, ah huh!  
Ooh- ohh- oh!_

 _A body like yours_  
 _Oughta be in jail_  
 _'Cause it's on the verge of bein' obscene_  
 _Move over baby_  
 _Gimme the keys_  
 _I'm gonna try to tame your little red love machine_

His gesture took on a blatantly erotic edge as he fastened his belt, and even the kits that were probably too young to understand shrieked anyway. Suddenly, he pulled one up on the stage and danced with her... more like he guided her around the stage as she tried her hardest not to faint. Her friends down below were clawing for him, spinning in circles.

 _Little red Corvette_  
 _Baby you're much too fast_  
 _Little red Corvette_  
 _You need to find a love that's gonna last_

And then, without any consciousness that she was doing so, Bombalurina began moving her paws right where _his_ would be if that had been her. Oh, how he teased her.

 _Little red Corvette_  
 _Honey you got to slow down_  
 _Little red Corvette_  
 _'Cause if you don't you gonna run your_  
 _Little red Corvette right in the ground_

 _Little red Corvette_

And with a smirk, he kissed on his paw and pushed it against the kit that was desperately reaching for his lips. There she went. The crowd cheered and applauded. Bombalurina, meanwhile, was rendered motionless, still trying to recreate what his grip on her would feel like. Something inside her had awoken... something she had no clue had been lying dormant all this time.

—

When the ball was long over and it was nearly sunrise, Bombalurina at last had the opportunity to approach the tom without a gaggle of queens blocking her way. He was speaking to his brother, who had also grown quite handsomely. But if she remembered collected, stiff Munkustrap correctly, there was no use in trying him. Before she made an appearance, Bombalurina did a quick touch up on her coat and tail. She crossed over, maintaining an air of calm and sensual.

She cleared her throat and said, "Do my eyes deceive me, or was that 'little Tugger' I got the honor of seeing tonight?" He turned around, a cocksure grin on his face, one that didn't seem to recall who she was.

"Did I just hear ' _little_ Tugger?'" His tail swished curiously. Indeed, that nickname was far outdated; the tom now towered over every male and female in the tribe. Munkustrap leaned over and scanned the Somali.

"...Bombalurina?"

 _Damn it! Get lost you stupid prude!_ She'd wanted to draw it out before she revealed herself.

"Wait... I _thought_ I recognized you in the crowd tonight." Tugger sang, warming up. "How've you been?" He looked right at her and Bombalurina felt herself do something she'd never done before. She started to blush.

"Um— all right. I mean, I've been gone for maybe nine years, so, there'd be _a lot_ to catch up on." What on earth? That sounded so daft! She straightened her posture. "I thought your performance was... exquisite." She barely missed Munkustrap rolling his eyes. Another adoring fan.

 _"Exquisite?"_ He leaned against the wall, "Are you trying to impress me with the 'interesting words' you learned on your adventures?"

"It's just the first word that came to mind thinking of you." This was so strange. Why wouldn't he budge? She was used to every tom melting on sight, enjoying the idea of them challenging each other to have their chance with her. All he did was raise a brow and wait for her to say something else. "So... did you _really_ recognize me?"

"Mmm... There was something familiar about you, but you can't really see shit with all those stage lights on you." He bluntly interjected. Bombalurina's expression nearly broke and Munkustrap pulled on his arm.

"Tugger, Dad's waiting for us."

"C'mon, bro... we gotta pack it in so soon?" He gave Bombalurina a playful look, so enticing that she almost shuddered.

"It's four in the morning. _Yes."_

"Hmph. No problem." He turned back to her, "I'll be seeing you around, I'm sure."

 _Think of something clever. Anything!_ "Yes, you will." _...Good job._ And he strided along with his brother beside him; it was almost humorous at how much taller he was now, how much fluffier his mane was getting. Bombalurina knew that this was the start of something she hadn't prepared herself for... and what that was, she would spend however long she needed to realize it.


	7. Watchful Eyes

**Munkustrap**

"Bro," groaned Tugger, "do you _really_ need me for this?"

"Come on, I haven't asked you for anything in days." Munkustrap had kindly asked that he help haul some excess garbage out of the area since the cats were getting too crowded. He could lift a decent amount, but it was Tugger that came in handy involving anything weighty. Didn't mean he wouldn't whine about it. "Don't be a puppy."

"Who you callin' puppy?"

Munkustrap snickered and the Maine Coon trotted beside him as they exited the gates; arms full of trash and bits and pieces that were once human contraptions.

"How's the wife?" He asked.

"Good. We had a nice talk this morning."

"Oh yeah?"

"Mhm."

"Come up with any names for the kittens yet?"

The tabby shook his head. "No names. Not until they're born. You know that's tradition." He flung the heap of garbage into a large pit.

Tugger mocked him, _"You know thathh thradishon."_ He threw in his pile.

Munkustrap felt a smile peel on his face. "You making fun of me?"

 _"You making thun oth me?"_ Now Munkustrap was laughing; how long had it been since his brother mimicked him like that? "What? I was being _completely_ serious!" Tugger's grin fell when he noticed somebody coming close. "Bro?" Munkustrap's pleasant mood abated when he saw him coming. Raithen. It had only been a few hours and already he was approaching again... had he not made it clear that he didn't want guests? The brothers looked at each other and silently understood what the other was inferring.

"Pardon the intrusion," the hairless cat greeted; he came to a halt upon seeing Rum Tum Tugger up close, "my! _Big_ lad you are! Bet no one's tried to get into an argument with _you!"_

 _"Did he just call me fat?"_ Tugger murmured.

"And look at that mane! You must be very proud." Was that sarcasm? Neither Jellicle knew how to take it. Raithen looked back at Munkustrap, "Your brother?" He nodded. "I see. As I was saying, I hope you don't mind my asking, but do you know of any safe places for us to spend the night? My toms are tired, and making our way back to Hammersmith will take a few days."

Munkustrap gave Tugger a furtive glance, both aware he was asking for hospitality. Tugger was the first to answer. "Unfortunately, we don't." The Sphynx looked malcontented. Munkustrap then gave _his_ knowledge.

"There's a lot of storm drains and fire escapes humans don't really use. You should be fine around here." He said with an assertive tone.

"Ah, yes. Thank you kindly." Before the Sphynx proceeded any further, he looked upon the silver and black tom. "You look awfully tired, my good lad."

"I usually _am._ " He answered plainly.

"A leader's got to be well-rested if he's got a pack to take care of."

"That's none of your concern." Tugger said sharply. "Now if you don't mind, we're a bit busy at the moment."

 _"Tugger."_ Munkustrap spouted, annoyed. Turning someone away was one thing, but he didn't have to be rude about it! Raithen's eyes remained bright and cheerful.

"Apologies! I didn't mean any offense." Munkustrap had only to glance at the shyness of his manners to see that he was telling the truth. He frowned with sudden dismay at the stranger's predicament. If he'd truly come all this way _just_ to pay him a kindness, what harm could returning it do?

"If you wind up not finding anywhere else, I'm willing to let you stay one night in the junkyard." Tugger shot his brother a nasty glare. Was he serious? He was about to say something before he watched the Sphynx prick up with gratitude.

"Are you certain? I could never ask that of you!"

"Only if you have nowhere else," clarified Munkustrap, "and if you _do_ end up in our vicinity, all I ask is that you stay near the perimeters and respect our rules."

"Of course, of course!" He replied merrily. "If we have to make our stay at your home, then expect to see us later in the evening."

Rum Tum Tugger had not the courtesy to hide his resentful face. He averted his dull gaze from the bald tom. Why had his 'wiser' older brother been cursed with such painful politeness? He turned and walked away and Tugger said, much too loudly, "Hopefully he won't have to." Munkustrap swat his arm, eyes ablaze with anger. _"What?"_ He sniped with a snarl. Tugger was in no way inclined to ever justify his actions, so when Munkustrap kept pestering him all the way back, the Maine Coon let _him_ explain to Demeter what had been happening... and to everyone's shock, she _agreed_ with her brother-in-law.

Privately in their corner of the vicinity, she chastised him with a tough glare. "I thought _you_ were the one who said we should be wary of strange cats coming to our home!"

"We don't even know if they'll be here or not! It was just a courtesy!"

"Courtesy killed the cat!" Tugger berated.

"Curiosity." Corrected Demeter.

 _"I know_ that, I was saying it to—" Why was he even explaining? "Brother, I know you're trying to do what our father might've, but this isn't—"

"This has nothing to do with our father." Munkustrap interrupted, full of contempt. "It just didn't feel right blatantly saying 'no' to his face."

"I would've gladly done it _for_ you." Tugger exclaimed. Demeter tried to raise a paw up to the Maine Coon as a means to calm him, but he pushed it away. "So what? It was _their_ choice to come all the way from _Hammer-wherever_ to tell you they're sorry. You owe them nothing." His argument was sound, but it still did not make any sense to him why Munkustrap had done what he did. It was too late anyway to change his mind. Besides, he saw right through his brother – there were no illusions – _of course_ he was trying to emulate what Old Deuteronomy would've said. Even _Demeter_ could see it. It was just like when they were younger. Old Deuteronomy did all the speaking while Munkustrap passively kept his head low and said nothing. Not even when he must speak for himself could he use his own tongue.

Demeter hefted herself up; she'd become so heavy that Tugger had to keep her from almost losing her balance. "Love," she said to Munkustrap, "come walk with me." She looked back reassuringly at Tugger and took Munkustrap's arm while they ranged towards the east gate. No one else was about to hear them speak.

"It's not even a big deal." Munkustrap said, irate. "I just offered them _one_ night to stay safe and my brother turns it into a big fiasco."

"He wants to look after you."

"I don't need him to. _I'm_ the one who's supposed to be taking care of the others." Demeter stopped and stepped in front of him.

"Is _that_ what you're doing?" She asked firmly. " _Taking care_ of these strangers?" Munkustrap looked embarrassed and turned away. Demeter took his face so he'd look at her. "I don't mind your decision, it surprised me is all. Given _everything_ that's happened, you're still willing to let an outsider into your territory?"

"You were an outsider once."

"That was different." She had to say nothing more to make her point. He knew just how much their circumstances differed than with whoever _this_ was.

"I just think I need to be more willing to trust other cats too. For half-a-year I've been petrified of letting anyone in or out of the tribe." Demeter took a moment to process what her mate was feeling. It made enough sense to her, but she felt no less anxious.

"I was naive once and I learned my lesson. But I trust you know what you're doing." She answered in a soft, thin voice.

"If they _do_ come here, I'm not going to take my eyes off of them; I'll make sure Alonzo and Plato know too." Demeter stopped him so she could give him a kiss. She brushed her thumb over his lip and covered the scar peeking out from beneath his fur. "I'm not letting you out of my sight either." He promised her, but Demeter had not _planned_ to let strangers anywhere near her or her kittens.

"Let's not worry about it right now. Like you said, it might not even happen." She said only to comfort him, but Munkustrap's rationality got the better of him—only a fool would think that a temporarily homeless tom would refuse the offer of a free night somewhere. He knew deep down that they'd be coming, and while he felt a tinge of regret in his decision, part of him felt inside that he'd done the right thing.

Old Deuteronomy would think so... right? If he saw the Bengal twins as fit to _live_ with the Jellicles, then surely a small kindness would do nothing to besmirch his good name.

* * *

 **Mungojerrie**

Rumpleteazer wouldn't stop pestering him with an old fork she'd found. She said she was literally _teazing_ his mane. Every time he swat at her, she was only _more_ amused. "Oh, darling! Those horrible cats stole our finest silverware!" She mocked. "It came from a long line of aristocrats!"

"Aristo- _cats!_ " Mungojerrie corrected, laughing. "And tonight we'll dine like ones!" Rumpleteazer, on cue, started scratching her back with the object. "After you cover it with your fleas."

 _"I'm_ not the one with fleas!" She teased. Mungojerrie replied with a snide glare. "All right, neither are you _anymore._ "

"Thank God it'll be winter soon. No bugs for a while."

Rumpleteazer smiled mischievously. "And most of the neighborhood will be gone on holidaaayy. A burglar's dream."

"Whatever won't be missed, of course." He checked his reflection in the spoon to see if it needed more shining. He used his tail to scrub it spotless. Of course, it was just going to go in the pile and get dirtied up again anyhow. He didn't know why he was bothering. His sister let out a big yawn and Mungojerrie turned to her, "What are _you_ tired from?"

"What do you mean? I just yawned."

"Well, don't! Now I'll have to..." And there he went with a wide yawn. "Damn it. See!"

"Not _my_ fault little brother has to copy everything I do."

"Five minutes doesn't count."

"It does too!"

"Doesn't"

"Does."

 _"Doesn't!"_

 _"Does!"_

Their childish banter was cut short when a tom nearby loudly cleared his throat. It was none other than Munkustrap. "I hate to interrupt this intelligent conversation, but I have some news." The twins both stood up in unison and asked what it was. "We _may_ be having a traveling pack stay with us for the night if they have nowhere else to go. If that's the case, I want _you two_ on your best behavior. Is that clear?" His voice was curt and hard.

"Whatever you say, lad." Mungojerrie saluted. "We give you our word." Rumpleteazer copied his gesture, but Munkustrap replied with his famous eye-roll. Their voices betrayed their words. "Who will be having tonight?"

"Just four toms from Hammersmith. They call themselves the Copperkits." At once, it seemed that the twins went still for a fleeting moment. Something in the queen's eyes flickered before she went back to polishing their loot. "Is something wrong?" He startled.

"That name sounds familiar, is all." Mungojerrie quickly said. He turned to his sister. "Must've been a cat we came across on one of our little heists, eh?" Rumpleteazer shrugged with a cheeky pout.

"You've been all the way to _Hammersmith_?"

"We got around quite a bit before settling down here." Mungojerrie explained. "We didn't _just_ happen upon the West End and move in." His words made enough sense to the tom; that might explain their surprised reactions to hearing the name. But now he had questions.

"Was there... anything odd about them?"

Rumpleteazer shook her head, "Not from we recall. Our interactions with them only involved a very brief enquiry about directions. Not much else." She breathed on the silver case that had contained the forks and spoons and wiped it with her tail. "Why? Did they say anything to you?" She blurted out as if she were guilty of something. Even Munkustrap felt odd about it.

"Nothing _too_ unusual. I'll be honest and say I'm _hoping_ they'll be gone first thing in the morning if they stay here."

"Well, no need to worry about us, mate. We'll be good kitties today." At that, both the Bengals had to snort back a laugh. Munkustrap, however, looked so tired and irritable that it made Mungojerrie sympathetic. "We promise." He said more seriously.

"Thank you." Munkustrap, with _some_ relief, took his leave. It was at that moment, once he was out of sight, that the twins gave each other subtle, yet distressed glances. Perhaps they should've said more than they did, but they also knew something else. If their tribe had taken care of Macavity, then these folks imposed no threat should they mean to.

Mungojerrie had known no cat more despicable than Macavity, but _before_ he and Rumpleteazer arrived in the West End, they'd met their share of characters and all their different natures. While their lives as house cats wasn't favorable, they _still_ had not seen just how bad things could get for them outside the gilded cage that was Dalston. Humans were bad, yes, but _cats_ – their own species – were on an entirely different level of conniving... _they_ would know. How else would the twins have obtained the skills they did?

"Sister," Mungojerrie said much later, "I feel like we should've told him what we know."

Rumpleteazer felt heat rise inside of her. "What else do we know? We told him the truth. We never _actually_ associated with the Copperkits. They just took us in for a while is all."

"You don't find it odd that they just happened to show up after Old Deuteronomy's gone?"

"No." She flared. "Think of how much time's gone by; if they wanted something with us, they would've come looking _long_ ago." It made enough sense to Mungojerrie, but not enough to suspend _all_ of his doubt. "Besides, Munkustrap told us; they'd come to pay their respects. Even cats like _them_ know when to give some sort of regard... and honestly, do you _really_ think Munkustrap or his brother would let anything happen to us? Look what he did when Macavity took his father!" Once again, her words reigned true. While he liked to think their slight age difference meant nothing, Rumpleteazer had truly taken care of Mungojerrie the way any big sister would. She was always the one with a backup plan should any of _his_ go awry. She was not against using flattery and tweaking her persona to persuade others into helping them.

Sometimes Rumpleteazer would forget whether she was acting or not and lose track of whom she was pretending to be for whom. There was never any ruse between the two siblings, at least. Since they'd pledged themselves to the tribe, she'd had to do a lot less pretending, although she liked for everyone to think she was a cheerful ditz just so anything that went wrong in their sweeps couldn't be blamed on her. How could someone so silly as her be possible of such a crime? Mungojerrie knew his sister's cleverness. He knew it indeed.

Yet _he_ was the schemer. All plans and routes were made by him. Nothing could get done if it weren't for Mungojerrie's natural gift for simplifying every little complicated detail there was to an idea, though as of right now, he couldn't put a claw on whether something obscene could be about or not. Unfortunately, they would have to wait and see before they decided to take action.

* * *

 **Munkustrap**

The tabby kept a close watch on the pride of four toms; the bald one standing out enormously from his thick-coated followers. Despite his efforts to be genial and accommodating, he couldn't shake the feeling in his gut that this was all too odd. Yes, he could just be overthinking the situation as he always did once he was unsure about something, but an outsider was an outsider. Had Munkustrap not invited them to the junkyard, they would be _intruders_. And intruders were a threat. And threats were to be dealt with immediately. His father's words from his dream echoed in his head. _Pay attention. Listen. Watch._ And he obeyed. He did the bare minimum that was possible in 'greeting' his (not necessarily wanted) guests. He told them where they were permitted to sleep for the night and that they were to leave at dawn... in the most well-mannered way possible. God knows what _Tugger_ might've said to them had he been around. He probably left just so he wouldn't have to deal with it.

Demeter was already at rest; she'd been weary as of late, and Munkustrap was getting worried that she might've caught something. It was unnaturally cold for London that evening, and not even his layers of grey fur could protect him from the windchill. His whole body shivered and he saw the yellow glint of the feline's gaze look towards him. It irked him more than perhaps it should've, but Munkustrap sensed that he was purposefully watching him, wanting him to come closer so they could speak. He then thought about his mate—maybe he ought to keep watch on _her_ instead. That way if something dared go near her, he would be there to intervene. Why even sleep anymore when he needed to stay on guard? All that awaited him were vivid, disturbing dreams once he closed his eyes anyhow.

Munkustrap hopped down onto the boot of the broken car and god into a lying position, head held up and eyes wide and full. This was _his_ tribe. If he even let himself get _slightly_ more comfortable, he knew he'd doze off the instant he rested his head on his paws. Mistoffelees had claimed he'd conjure up a spell to give any cat anywhere their entire life's rest so they no longer needed to sleep... now the more practical tom was _wishing_ that could happen. Was there a cure for ceaseless stress and worry too? It seemed like when he _needed_ rest, it wouldn't come to him, but then when he refused to sleep, it's all his body wanted to do. He recalled just one of many what he called 'midnight anxiety attacks' that had happened just three months ago.

He had his first one as a teenager, then again in his twenties. No matter what the circumstance, he could never tell when they were coming nor what caused them. He forgot how awful they were until they attacked him at his most vulnerable state. His most recent one there had been, like always, no warning. Something came into his line of vision that paralyzed him and left him in hysterics. A specific red-coated tom with overgrown claws and viper-like eyes, caressing his sleeping Demeter. In an instant, Munkustrap was hyperventilating; no part of his body wanted to move, though he was desperate. He felt paws on him and he wanted to scream for his wife to run. Eyes. Eyes everywhere watching him, none offering solace. It had been no nightmare—he was awake. He just _knew._ His own panicked breathing was enough to alarm Demeter and she grasped him, but that didn't stop the madness.

"What's wrong?" She demanded, worried. "Munkustrap!" He couldn't answer, for he would cease breathing if tried to speak. She clung to him, shushed him, tried everything in her power to stop whatever was happening. It became so much that she started to cry. "What's wrong? _Tell me_!" She pleaded. She wiped at the tears running down his face; it seemed like his mind was on another planet. The commotion became so much that _finally_ , Admetus came running over to see what was happening. Demeter said it plainly: she had no clue. But Admetus recognized this scenario before, and knew the only cure was just to assure him and let him ride it out. It's what Old Deuteronomy had to do when they were all still kittens. It _frightened_ her to think that this had happened before.

At last, after what seemed an eternity, he began to sputter, _"Please... please..."_ Demeter held his head and asked him what he wanted. He still didn't know who she was, nor where he was. _Help me._ The words were on his lips, but language was beyond his ability now. _Help me!_ But Demeter did not need words to understand him. She cradled him and made sure he knew that he was safe, rocking him like a human mother would her infant child. At last, the light in his eyes returned. _"Dem... Demeter..."_ He was still ventilating, his heart was still racing, but he was home. It had been so awful that Demeter, or _anybody_ , could've mistaken him for being under some sort of spell or possession. He didn't even have the conscious power to stop it from happening even if he willed it. Demeter ensured him that she was there if he needed her, and that was enough. She sacrificed far too much for him, he thought.

He just wanted her to be happy, to feel like she was protected and sound... what kind of mate was he to let himself sink into such a state when he needed to be strong? What kind of _Jellicle_ did that make him? The glint of the cat's pure yellow eyes flickered once again and alerted Munkustrap that he was coming close; the tabby quickly lifted his head and glared with a stern look.

"My good lad, no need to tire yourself any further. I assure you that I'll keep my word and be gone by morning. Possibly before then!"

"It's all right." Munkustrap dodged the suggestion, "I'm supposed to be on watch anyway. The others are off." Raithen licked his tongue over his pink chops; his loose, wrinkled flesh folded across his forehead and shoulders. But when he stretched his body, he looked smooth, as if he were made of rubber. The gray markings along his flesh were a coat of its own. He did not need hair to take pride in. Still, Munkustrap had to pity him in a time like this—the unnatural cold of the autumn this year had come to curse them _both_ it seemed. He had to pity the journey it must've been. Raithen was _much_ older than himself, ten or twenty cat years. Younger than Old Deuteronomy was. "Do you need me to get you any blankets or pillows?"

"There's no need, mate. You've done plenty. You're kind, though." At that, Munkustrap grinned softly. Raithen suddenly hopped onto the boot and sat next to him. "Do you have a mate? A tom as young and handsome as you are, I can guess you've had at least _six_ by now!"

"Just one." He answered, a little addled by the question.

"Ah, so you're an _honest_ lad, then. I admire that. No kittens?"

Munkustrap shook his head. "Not yet... we're expecting, though."

"Are you? Congratulations!" He smiled brightly. Munkustrap felt a shy smile from his commendation. "I was chaste myself until I was your age... all right, maybe a bit older." He snorted, "What I didn't know about my mate though was that she'd been spayed... humans are cruel, aren't they? Take away the one thing that could bring us happiness in this world."

Munkustrap frowned. "I'm sorry."

Raithen sighed. "Well... after a while, she just couldn't take the idea of even _trying_ anymore... Not even for the sake of love, you know?" Munkustrap nodded. "It gets hard, especially when you're getting older. You're young, and you're still ripe. You make sure you make her feel good." He chuckled and Munkustrap bit his lip to try and not laugh.

A sudden curiosity took him. "What does your tribe do? What kind of traditions do you have?"

"The Copperkits? Hm. We're not very _traditional_ , if I'm honest."

The very idea of a tribe without traditions or heritages of any kind was _baffling_ to the Mau. _"Nothing?"_

"Well, there are some, but for a tribe as... old-fashioned as the Jellicles, I'm not sure how you'd feel about them."

"It's not _my_ tradition. Why should I judge?" He answered politely. Raithen didn't answer; he supposed he'd have to take his word for it.

"Has it been hard without your father?" The question stung him like a hearth's hot touch and Munkustrap sank a little in demeanor. Raithen looked at him. One of his eyes was noticeably more red and squinted than the other; like it had been infected in the past. Munkustrap's own sky-blue went dull with glumness. "I'm sure you miss him."

"Of course." He answered in a thin voice.

"...Just so young to be without a father." He said sadly. "I lost mine when I was fifteen. A car hit him..." Munkustrap looked at him wide-eyed. "Still, the grief is no different whether you're fifteen, twenty, thirty... it always feels like it was too soon." Munkustrap nodded without speaking; the grimace on his face was telling enough. "At least you still have a family. You've got a brother, a mate, and soon you'll have kittens... when my own father died, I had no one." Munkustrap only gazed at him; he couldn't even _imagine_ such turmoil. It hurt his heart just thinking about it. "Well now, I hate to end this discussion on such a low note, but I'll be needing my rest. Sorry I took your time."

Munkustrap regained his train of thought and watched the Sphynx hop down to the ground. "It's... It's all right!"

"Sleep well." He said, not knowing Munkustrap intended to do just the opposite. The Mau knew he'd be unable to stop thinking about his plight for the rest of the night... what loneliness he must have suffered. Now he understood why the stranger felt the need to come and see him. Perhaps he'd felt they had something in common, even if it was in the strangest of ways.

—

Raithen took his spot on the ground; right next to the gates as Munkustrap requested. His four followers were already unconscious, or at least it seemed. Raithen pat down the earth flat and rolled up into a ball. He turned his head to get a glimpse of what the West End looked like at night, but the first thing he got instead were two, shamrock-colored eyes glaring at him. The Maine Coon. His ears were low and tight against his skull and let out a slight chuff; one to remind him that he was in _his_ territory. His piercing stare didn't flinch and Raithen, who at first had felt frightened, simply lowered his head down to sleep. Tugger didn't subside. He watched this stranger that, while his brother would tolerate, was still not welcome in his home.

After tonight, at least, the threat would be gone.


	8. Kittens

**Rum Tum Tugger**

Not very much could distress Rum Tum Tugger, but these strangers rattled him. It took hours of patrolling back and forth behind the gate like a pound dog, but by morning, he'd come to understand why. Macavity had behaved in a cordial, civil manner even when his words were venomous and full of deceit. It's not ridiculous, he thinks, to be unsettled by a cat whose own manners proved to be eerily similar. He imagines the possibility of what _any_ 'well-meaning' tom coming about the tribe could be hiding. More horrific: what they wanted with his brother.

Not even when his eyes were red and weary and his belly tightened from hunger did he give in to his need for rest. He scratched fervently at his face and mane to keep himself awake, messing up normally pristine appearance. He didn't care – it's not like anyone important would be seeing him. And honestly, _no one_ could look their best every moment of the day; even _he_ accepted that. As long as the tribe _thought_ he looked perfect as soon as he rolled out of bed, everything else was all right with him. He kept his icy stare at Raithen; the bald cat that antagonized him just by being in his presence. It never came to mind that he could be overreacting, just as Munkustrap had concluded. Tugger saw what he saw, and nothing more or less.

He should be out tonight; somewhere more engaging and lively that involved dancing, flirting, something that fulfilled his sensory needs. But never had Tugger felt more uncomfortably inclined to remain where he was. Not even at the sound of his father's enraged voice calling his name as he ran at full speed away from the abode did he choose to turn around. In a way, since he was born, Tugger had a need to constantly move and explore; practically nocturnal, if he even slept _at all_ some nights. He might've come out the womb as a sickly kitten, only survivor of his mother's litter, but if anyone could say he worked it out of himself, it was every single cat that grew up with him. The many scares he'd given poor Munkustrap that wanted nothing else than to protect his kitten brother... he never made life easy for him, but then again, imagine how boring it'd be without him! But no matter what trouble he'd given him that day, it would always end with him nuzzling his big brother with a soft and sweet, "I love you."

Tugger wouldn't let Munkustrap forget that _he'd_ been a kitten once too, equally as silly and a little troublesome. They both loved making splashes in rain puddles, no matter how many times their father said 'no' because it'd mean having to clean their fur _eight_ times in a row. They'd fight over toys on occasion; sometimes their play fighting would get too rough, and other times they'd be up past late, and Old Deuteronomy would knowing call out: "Are you asleep?" To which the kittens would dumbly answer: "Yes! We're in bed!"

A lot of the times it wasn't out of mischief that they were up late. Tugger would plead and plead his brother to re-read him his favorite book: _Growltiger's Last Stand_. He still had it laying around somewhere, ready to share with his future nieces and nephews. The Maine Coon now had _more_ reason to take note of any possible threat, just as his brother did. They would be the closest he'd ever get to having kittens of his own, and he accepted that. In fact, he couldn't ask for anything better.

Munkustrap was a natural caretaker, Tugger knew he wasn't cut out for actual _fatherhood_. Short-term 'daycare' and perhaps some extended kitten-sittings he could do for his own family, but he didn't have the skills Munkustrap had been _born_ with. It was the only reason he understood Munkustrap's anxiety about becoming a parent—he knew the very feeling of wondering whether he could take care of a kitten full-time or not... let alone five or six. So long as he, Demeter, and anyone else in the tribe was around, nothing was getting near those kittens.

Nothing.

At the very edge of whatever wakefulness he had left in him, the sky turned a familiar grey and he realized this painfully long night was almost over. He looked over and saw Munkustrap has lost his fight with sleep on the boot of the car; for once, he looked still and calm, though he did not know what sorts of images were flashing behind his closed lids. If the Mau was lucky, none at all. From here, Tugger had the comfort of knowing he could see both his brother and the menace at once. He did not need anyone's protection; his defiance of his father's rules and wishes had granted him the ability to look after himself in any given situation. It made him hyper-aware of what was going on around him and where.

When the Sphynx cat stirred and his one good eye opened before the other, squinted one, the first thing he saw being what he _last_ looked upon: the Maine Coon's blazing eyes. He stood up and stretched; the pink folds of skin smoothed out flat and he yawned. Once he straightened back out, every little wrinkle fell over the other, so much that it looked like his face would be smothered by his own flesh. He came over to the gates and peered through. "Were you up all night? I must say, I'm impressed." He said cheerfully. Tugger narrowed his eyes hatefully. The Sphynx licked his lips, recoiling nervously. "I'm going to give my toms another hour or so, then I suppose we'll be on our way." No answer from the large, Jellicle tom. He shook his mane out; flakes of stray fur went flying about, some that tickled the stranger's nose and made him want to sneeze. Hopefully he was allergic to dander, thought Tugger, a nice parting gift. Of course, if he _were_ , he wouldn't be living with fully-coated toms. "I'm sorry if I caused any discomfort," said Raithen, "I know you and your brother have had a lot to deal with this past year."

Ha! What an understatement. If only he could know for himself what it had been like. He didn't need or _want_ his sympathy. Rum Tum Tugger fixed his collar and averted his eyes. His look of disdain was no longer needed. Soon he'd be able to close his eyes and regain some lost energy. In fact, blinking right now had been a mistake, for now he realized how heavy his lids felt once he tried to open them. Already his head was nodding as he tried to straighten his neck and back.

Raithen's voice suddenly cut through the silence and brought him back to life. "Is it true?" He asked as if he'd know what he was referring to. He lowered his voice, "That it was _you_ who tore Macavity's throat out?" Rum Tum Tugger's lip twitched with aggression and he gave no response that could suffice for an answer. "Bugger had it coming. He always ran his mouth about what a great criminal he was. Bloke was out of his bloody mind. The rats described it to me as a big, black and tawny cat with leopard spots on his chest... and you fit the description rather well." He snorted.

The only reason Tugger was now inclined to speak was on behalf of Munkustrap. "It was my brother that went after him. I just went along to make sure he got back safe."

"But Macavity died at your claws, no?" No answer. Raithen chuckled. "A tom that lets his _actions_ speak for him. I like that." Tugger shrugged his shoulders tensley. "Are you close with your brother?"

It must be the exhaustion catching up to him, because Tugger abruptly felt obligated to give him a simple answer. "Of course."

"Were you close with your father?"

Tugger rubbed his eyes; they stung from how desperate they were to close. He'd taken worse—keeping awake for another hour wouldn't be the end of the world... nor would answering his question. "Mhm."

"Both probably spoiled you; you were the kitten of the family, after all!" If Tugger were wide awake and in a more amiable mood, he'd laugh at that. But right now, he gave a vague nod in response. "I was an only kitten, and it was only my father and I until he passed. Of course, I had my friends that I grew up with—they were like brothers enough."

"What happened to them?"

"Well, as we all grew older, we all went our own ways. Cats do that once they're full-grown, you know? Have you thought about going your own way?"

Tugger winced. "What do you mean?"

"Have you thought about going off on your own, _away_ from the tribe." The question muddled the Jellicle. "There's an entire world out there to explore; the U.K. is just a small fraction of it."

"And where've _you_ been?"

"Nowhere! That's why I'm telling _you_ that you ought to travel before you're old and withered like I am." At that, Tugger actually simpered a little; it must be how drained he was, but the bald tom finally earned a soft smirk from him. "I do hope my stay hasn't troubled you too much." He said again. "I can understand your distrust for strangers after all you've been through."

Tugger mumbled, half-asleep, "It's fine."

"If it's all right with you, I'd like to give your brother one final thanks before we depart."

The suddenty of the request was enough to knock Tugger back on his heels, and with sudden dismay, he said, "I'll be sure to let him know. It's better you get on your way as soon as possible."

"It wouldn't feel right not letting the tom who gave us a safe resting spot know in person how grateful we are."

"He won't mind." He sniped through this teeth. He was hoping Raithen would take the hint that he did _not_ want him here longer than he'd promised. Honestly, his very presence was becoming more and more of a nuisance. Playing the waiting game was far from his area of expertise. Finally, one of the fellow Copperkits rose and the long night commenced to end.

* * *

 **Munkustrap**

"Wake up."

Munkustrap was shaken from his deep, dreamless sleep. He was still in a haze when he blinked his eyes open and saw Tugger next to him. "Huh? What?"

"The leader wants to speak with you or something." He huffed, grouchy and fatigued.

Munkustrap's eyes were still bleary, he pushed himself up off the boot and rolled his neck around. "They're going?"

"They _should_ be, that's what he said."

Munkustrap stretched his limbs, "All right..." He shook his fur out and proceeded towards the small pack. Tugger watched, eyes unblinking. Munkustrap was still in a foggy state of mind when he approached them. "You slept well?"

"We did! Much more comfortable than we would've been anywhere else." Raithen replied. His followers were still scratching and stretching. Munkustrap found it odd how he hadn't heard even a single grunt or rasp from them. Was it _that_ crucial that they remain silent if not being spoken to? He was taught to respect the traditions of other tribes, but that didn't mean he found it any less odd. One ducked his head away as he was yawning when he saw the silver and black tom was looking. So strange... "Anyhow, we'll be getting a move on. I thank you once again. Good luck with everything else." He began to bow his head.

"Rise!" Munkustrap found himself stating hurriedly. "I'm no leader yet." Raithen humbly lifted himself back up with a look of surprise.

"You haven't been crowned?" Munkustrap shook his head. "I see... still mourning?" Munkustrap's face took a more grim expression; he had nothing to add. "Well, I know that Old Deuteronomy's son would do a marvelous job. He raised his sons right, clearly." The tabby uncomfortably bit his lip and nodded, not sure what to say next.

"I hope you make it home safe. I won't forget your kindness." There. That would do it. Once these strangers were gone, he could get back to schedule. Deep down, he felt some solace in that he'd given these toms some assistance. His father would have surely done the same thing. What was to be done next was to escort them out the gates and then check on his mate. When they were gone, as if nothing had happened at all, Munkustrap returned to his and Demeter's usual spot, only to find that she wasn't there. The blanket was cold, and hadn't been used all night.

His heart skipped a beat and right as Munkustrap went looking, believing the very worst, he found her nestled among the four female kittens and Jennyanydots. They all curled up around her, sleeping soundly, while Jennyanydots perked her head up when she saw the familiar tom. He'd nearly lost all ability to function at the idea that she'd gone missing. So much that he had to sit down when the Gumbie cat approached. "What's wrong?" He asked quietly, "Why's Demeter here?"

She looked tickled. "She started having pains last night, came to me thinking she was in labor." She looked back at the queens, "Look how precious... they just love her so much." At the sight of the kits sleeping peacefully with their angel, Munkustrap smiled. They loved her almost as much as they did Tugger! And he _knew_ if they had the opportunity, they'd cuddle up to him the very same way. "Soon it's gonna be _your_ babies lying around you like that." Jennyanydots beamed. "Oh, I can't believe my own little god-kitten's gonna have kittens!"

"They'll be your god-kittens too, you know."

"Well, they better be! I didn't think there'd be any question." Munkustrap suddenly looked guilty, "What is it, love?"

"Is Demeter really okay? I could've been there if I wasn't worried about the other tribe."

"Oh yes! It was minor, really. Just a first-time mom being nervous. The slightest _kick_ and we think they're ready to come out." Remaining true to her motherly instincts towards Munkustrap, she fixed his mane and straightened his collar, both horribly adjusted thanks to twisting throughout the night. "You're as handsome the day you were born, you know that?"

"I think stress might've done something to my coat. I've been pulling out tufts of fur lately."

 _"What stress?"_ She sounded appalled. "If you're worried about your kittens, well don't. I'll be right here to help with anything you need."

"It's not just the babies." His voice trailed off and he suddenly looked shy. Hesitant around the only mother figure he had in his life? Nonsense! At least that's what her face was saying. He only didn't speak because he wasn't sure of how _she_ felt about hearing Old Deuteronomy's name. He earnest look convinced him otherwise. "You know I'll have to take my dad's place soon. It's only a matter of time before the coronation."

"You know, the 'ceremony' is just a formality... you already run this place." Jennyanydots said flatly. When her tone went dry, that's when she was serious. And in a way, she was right. The moment Old Deuteronomy breathed his last, Munkustrap was tribe leader. The cats were following his rules... which so far were just his _father's_ rules. No situation had come about that required him to push at new ideas or solutions... thank God. His father had shared stories of what he had to deal with as leader; tribe negotiations, new members coming in and old ones leaving, the possibility of having to migrate and take shelter elsewhere. Change horrified the poor Munkustrap, yet so much of it was coming to him at once.

A little at a time was how Old Deuteronomy told him how to take it. Breathe it in slowly, that way he won't suffocate. And while Old Deuteronomy, by the time _Macavity_ was even born, had most of his council either leave or pass away, Munkustrap had his own. Alonzo was certain to be his head advisor no matter what; Plato and Coricopat as second and third keys. And lately, Munkustrap had something in mind for his brother. He hunted so well, and since Munkustrap would be busier with his kittens and have less time to leave the area, he thought about making some sort of official title for him. He could be in charge of bringing in and preserving food for them... just until the kittens learned how to hunt themselves.

Hell, _Tugger_ should teach them, thought Munkustrap. It would be an excellent way to bond, for one, and he would probably give them better tactics since he'd mastered both ground-level stalking and tree climbing. The Egyptian Mau was _fast_ – that much he could say about himself. No rabbit had ever outran him and any cat that dared picked _him_ as 'it' during tag was doomed. Poor Alonzo learned this hard way growing up so many times. Munkustrap couldn't imagine hunting any other way than with his feet on the ground, making a running leap towards his prey, the rush of adrenaline that surged through his veins as his jaws clenched tight against the rabbit's neck. Or the bird's. Whichever one. The idea of killing absolutely petrified him as a kitten, but his father made him realize that it was hunt or be hunted.

It was survival. Nothing more. Cats were not ruthless killers... not like some other species. He would make sure his kittens knew. He did not want to raise them to be scared of the world. Just cautious of it. Aware of what they needed to know to make it past adolescence... he'd also make sure that they _had_ a kittenhood before it was time to grow up. A time to play and be innocent; not cut it off abruptly like Old Deuteronomy had for him. He loved him dearly, and no flaw of his father's could change this fact, but when he took a step back to really it through one day, he realized what little of his kittenhood he got to experience. Munkustrap had been eleven when the playtime ended and lessons started. He rarely saw Alonzo, Plato, Jennyanydots, or even his little brother in the years that came. And frankly, though Munkustrap wanted nothing more than to please his father, he missed them.

But he did not complain once. He went through every single instruction, dutifully and obediently. Not even when he was exhausted would he ask for some time to see his friends or brother. He didn't want Old Deuteronomy to think this wasn't important to him; it was! But... there were other things he'd wanted to figure out as well... like why he suddenly kept waking up with a bizarrely warm sensation at his crotch, and why he was tempted to touch down there when he felt this way.

Why did the queens his age suddenly seem so much more appealing that all he could do was blush and bow his head and sometimes run the other way when they play-talked to him? Why did he suddenly feel so angry and stressed one minute, disappointed that he couldn't handle his own problems, but then completely empty and dull another?

He wanted to make everyone around him happy, that much Munkustrap knew. By the time he reached fourteen, though, this desperate desire came at a cost. That had been the year he had his first midnight meltdown. He was no fur carpet, as Rum Tum Tugger might've called him; he knew his limits and when to say 'no.' But if he someone he loved needed him or any sort of assistance and he couldn't provide, it would haunt him. The very idea of someone being angry at him upset the Mau enormously. As leader, he had to be counted on in any situation.

...And as a father, he'd need to be counted on for much more.

When Demeter rose and the kittens around her twisted and yawned awake, Munkustrap came closer and kissed her head. "Good morning." He said to her. She smiled and purred and the other kittens happily swarmed around him.

"Munkustrap!" Jemima happily nuzzled his chest and showered his face with kitten kisses. A ray of sunlight the moment she opened her wide, round eyes. Demeter put her arms around him, giving a playful smirk.

"Hey now, that's _my_ mate." Her voice rasped, still coated with sleepiness. "You're still a few years away from finding your own."

Etcetera boasted, "I already know who _my_ mate's going to be!"

"Etcetera, I hate to tell you this, but my brother's a little too old for you. Plus, I think you scare him a little."

The small, pale tabby pouted. "He just likes to play hard to get! That's what Bombalurina said!"

Demeter looked amused, " _Bombalurina's_ been talking to you?"

"Mhm!" She happily nodded. Demeter wanted to say more... but it was probably a good idea to keep quiet before she fully woke up and said something stupid.

Electra and Victoria had their ears against the calico's stomach. "Do you know how many toms and queens you're gonna have?" Asked Electra. Demeter shook her head. "How much longer?"

"Not much longer." Munkustrap assured. "Just another month or so."

"Does having kittens hurt?" Victoria asked, both puzzling and frightening poor Demeter.

"Well... I don't imagine it's _pleasant_..."

The inquisitive white kitten pricked her ears up, "Where do kittens come from?" Suddenly, all four young queens paid full attention to the two mates. Demeter was stumped and Munkustrap looked worriedly at Jennyanydots. Lord knows that while childbirth was beautiful, the _process_ of it wasn't. The Old Gumbie Cat came trotting over.

"All right, young queens, it's time for your crocheting lessons!" She pushed them away and they went crawling along.

Etcetera beamed, "Maybe Tugger knows!"

"Do NOT ask Tugger!" Cried Jennyanydots.


	9. Moment

**Demeter**

There was a soft rumble of thunder that cold morning. Munkustrap was having a drink of water when Demeter asked him, "Did you get enough sleep last night?"

He swallowed and cleared his throat, "Enough to function. That's all that counts."

"Good." She said. "I like it when you sleep well."

"Did _you_?"

"Mhm."

"Tugger woke me up; one of the _gents_ wanted one more thank you before they left." Thunder crackled again. It would either be a passing storm or just the skies teasing them with the idea. If there's one thing the cats didn't need, it was near-freezing rain at this time of year. "I hope they get back before it pours... _if_ it pours." Demeter stopped, gave a slight, painful grunt as she clutched her belly. Munkustrap's brow furrowed. "What's wrong?"

Demeter grasped where she felt the sharp pain and took a breath. "I'm fine." Munkustrap put his paw over hers, "I think it's just cramps or something..." Her eyes suddenly glistened with mischief and she dramatically cried out. "Oh! Munkustrap! The kittens are coming!" Instead of the more preferred reaction of his eyes going wide, he narrowed them and smirked.

"Are they." He said, hiding a laugh.

Demeter, of course, persisted. She knew that Munkustrap had a silly side of his own; it was easy for the Jellicles to forget when he was busy trying to act regal and dignified. She pretended to swoon into his lap. "You're going to have to birth them right here! Phone up the fire brigade!"

" _Ring up_ the fire brigade."

Demeter scoffed, "It's the same thing!" When she tried to get up, Munkustrap instead held her down and cradled her head. "What? Am I in trouble?" She hooted.

"I didn't get to tell you how beautiful you are today is all." He caressed her temple; his tail perked up in a soft curl. They both began to purr.

"You can't sweet-talk me if you're not going to follow through with it."

He scanned her fur for the pink of her nipples; round, wide circles. His paw brushed over one breast as he kissed it. Then the other. "When the kittens are here, we can spend some time together again." Every time he embraced her, she felt as though they were back at Hyde Park again—safe in each other's arms, far away from everyone and everything else. "I love you." With everything he listed, he kissed down her face and neck, "I love your scent, your eyes, your smile... your voice." And _Tugger_ thought he was the passionate one... well, he didn't, actually. But his suave skills must be hereditary, Demeter thought. Munkustrap, of course, still had a lot to learn.

But she loved her shy, sweet prince. She would take him over a charmer any day. "I'm the luckiest queen in the world to have you." She closed her eyes for a kiss. "Our kittens are going to be so lucky to have you as their daddy." For some reason, the tabby didn't say anything... if anything, there was something solemn about his expression. "What's the matter?"

"Hm? Nothing." He answered. The thunder crackled more loudly, making both cats jump.

—

When Munkustrap left to start planning the ball, Demeter took the liberty of seeking out a certain tom. One she rarely ever went looking for. Demeter was glad that she didn't have to go far when she spotted the large tom asleep under one of the cars. He was trilling slightly with every soft breath he took; much deeper than any regular nap he'd taken. He was rolled up into the ground; his tail covered most of his face. Demeter didn't care about politeness. She crawled under and loudly said, "Tugger."

Immediately, the Maine Coon's eyes launched open. Wide, green pools of surprise. "Wha— what?" He sounded like he'd just ran a mile; her voice had jolted him from an intense sleep. He looked around, not recognizing who had called his name, until he saw Demeter crouched beside him. "What is it?" He stretched, irritated.

"Did you stay on watch like you promised?"

 _"Yes."_ He growled, "Why else would I be hiding under a car in the middle of the day?" He yawned. "God damn it. I was having a nice nap. What'd you wake me up for?"

"I had to ask if you saw anything."

"Demeter, I would've said something if I'd _seen_ something." He was _not_ in the mood for this. "Did bro say anything?"

"Not much... just that he had a lot to get done today."

"He's got a lot to get done _every_ day."

"I wish he'd give himself a break... he's going to be a _father_ soon for God's sake."

"Munkustrap kind of _likes_ the work, actually." Tugger said, "it keeps him busy, and he feels like he's getting something done. That's what he tells me, anyway." Demeter sighed as a response; they both felt the wind rush underneath the vehicle and through their fur. He looked at her suddenly and asked, "How are you feeling?"

"I'm all right." She replied. "I've been having a lot of pains in my stomach."

"Really?" Demeter nodded. "My guess is that it's normal for that to happen."

"I know, but I still worry."

"Stress is bad for pregnancy. _That_ much I know is true." He snorted, "Thank God _Munkustrap_ isn't the pregnant one." At that, they both chuckled.

"Are you nervous at all?" She asked. Tugger shook his head. He had no reason to be, he told her. "God, I wish I was like you. I wish your brother was like you, if I'm honest."

"Nah... if I didn't have a brother to straighten me out and remind me to worry once in a while, something tells me that I wouldn't still be here." He sniggered. "Don't tell him I said that." Demeter laughed and told him she would make no promises.

* * *

 **Mungojerrie**

Mungojerrie asked Rumpleteazer, "Did you see those two peacocks on the roof earlier?"

" _Peacocks?_ On _what_ roof?" They were sitting on top of a suburban home, waiting for the owners to leave.

"The one across from us."

"No! Ugh! Well there goes breakfast."

"We'll have plenty to eat once the man leaves for work in about five minutes." His lips curved into a thin, dry grin, "I took a peek through the window while you were asleep last night; the woman's got some lovely hair pieces in the jewelry box." At that Rumpleteazer lit up. But then she looked at the sky and lost it.

"I hope we finish before the rain gets here."

"It's not gonna rain, is it?"

"I don't know. Looks like it." On cue, they heard the sound of the car engine starting and they peered over to see the man pulling off. It was time to start. They used the doggy door to crawl in, their family had just lost their beloved pet weeks ago and they still had some of its toys lying about. The Bengals took what they fancied and stuffed it into a duffle bag. On the counter, Rumpleteazer got a whiff of something delicious. She hopped onto the barstool and then on the island and opened up the pizza box. "Brother, look!" She exclaimed giddily. Just enough left over for them to feast.

They each took their share and once they arrived back to the alleyways, they toasted.

 _"And the family will say, 'It's that horrible cat!'"_

They cheerfully dined on their slices, cheeks full and without a care in the world. Such naughty felines, yet such fantastic thieves. "I've got to admit." Rumpleteazer began with her mouth full, "Humans sure can make amazing food."

"Some of the time." Mungojerrie agreed. He licked the grease off his paws. "What did ours dine on again? They called it _cuisine_ or something pretentious."

"I thought they only went out to eat. Why else did they always forget to feed us our basic meals?"

"They must've known we were so hungry that we'd try to steal _theirs._ " They both laughed, agreeing that was probably true. He felt a drop of water on his head and wondered if the rain had finally begun. His sister must've felt it too, for she was looking at the sky wildly. Indeed, it was now drizzling. They took their stashes and hid under an awning. Rumpleteazer was still munching on her pizza. She took her time and savored her special treat, all the way down to the crispy ends. "Guess our walk home is gonna be delayed."

"It's not that bad."

"Not _now_ , it isn't."

Her voice lowered. "...Jerrie, you smell that?" The twins smelled the air, both scenting the same thing. They looked and saw the Copperkits appearing from across the street, looking for a dry spot to wait the rain out. Shouldn't they be long gone by now?

"Keep a tight grip on our catch." Instructed Mungojerrie. He kept Rumpleteazer behind him as they darted out of sight and underneath a parked truck to avoid being spotted. They watched the small pack take refuge near the building they'd just abandoned. "I guess Munkustrap made himself clear. Looks like they're on their way out."

The she-cat sneered. "I'd hope so. Pests ought to know they're not welcome in someone else's territory... _especially_ after a tragedy."

"Just be glad they didn't recognize us. God knows we don't need a _reunion_ with anybody."

"You don't think they came _looking_ for something?"

"No, Sis. If I remember anything about them, it's that they kept _their_ business in _their_ territory." He watched coldly as they whipped around the building, no longer in their field of vision. "But it _would_ have been better if we'd let Munkustrap know. That way if anyone comes back, he'll know what to expect."

Rumpleteazer's entire body twitched. "God, I can't stand thinking about them."

Mungojerrie held her shoulder. "They're gone now." Now that his sister got the idea in his head, he couldn't shake it. "I'm going to have a word with Munkustrap when we get home."

"You really think he'll listen to you?"

"If he cares about his tribe, he will." He insisted. "I told you, he's a good lad. Good isn't dumb."

"Not _always_." Rumpleteazer added. Mungojerrie then noticed something peculiar: he counted three toms in total.

"Teazer, weren't their _four_ of them that came to the junkyard?"

* * *

 **Munkustrap**

"We're gonna need all this cleared out by the end of the month."

"What if it snows a lot? It's already cold and the kittens will need something to stand on if we don't want them to get lost." Alonzo chortled.

"Right now all I care about is having enough space. And even so, Demeter needs somewhere warm to have our kittens when they're ready."

Alonzo took some more notes on the clipboard. They were hidden underneath wooden planks to keep dry. "Don't worry. All that's gonna be taken care of. I went ahead and made the song chart last night." Munkustrap nodded with approval, but there was just one more thing. "So, about the coronation."

 _Straight to the point._ Just like Alonzo, thought Munkustrap. He hid his slight annoyance and looked at him, "What is it?"

"I was thinking we should have it _before_ the ball starts."

"Why's that?"

"The timing just feels more appropriate. We name you our leader, then we celebrate."

"It's a _winter_ ball, it doesn't have to be about me." If anything, he'd _beg_ not to make it about him. The last thing he needed was all that attention in one, long, stressful evening. "In all honesty, because we're cutting it so close, I want to keep an eye on Demeter. Sometimes kittens are early."

"Good point." The black-and-white tom agreed, yet something still seemed to irk him. Munkustrap knew that _Alonzo_ knew he was pushing it off on purpose. But while they were both aware how important it was to him and the tribe, Alonzo couldn't understand the reason behind his reluctance. "You know _all_ of the cats will be there to look after her. You shouldn't worry."

"When _you_ have a pregnant mate, then you'll know." He smirked.

Alonzo laughed, "God knows I'll be so lucky to find a mate as beautiful as yours." Munkustrap jokingly shot him a glare. "And kind and intelligent." He threw in as a save. "Every other queen I've encountered's a spitfire."

"I think being the heir of the tribe had something to do with how queens treated me... They only liked the idea of being a consort." Munkustrap thought lamentably.

Alonzo looked appalled, "That's not true. Your father never had a consort."

Munkustrap clicked his tongue. "Not for _long_ , he didn't. He didn't have a council either." At that, Alonzo opened his mouth, only to quickly shut it. His best friend since kittenhood afraid to speak up? "You wanted to say something?" He encouraged.

"When you're crowned... you're going to have to announce your council members sometime after. Have you..." Munkustrap knew what he was asking. Honestly, how could he expect any other answer.

"Alonzo, of course you're going to be chief advisor. You're the most level-headed cat I know."

"I wasn't going to ask _that_ —" Munkustrap hid a smile; of course he was. "But if you insist." The tabby playfully rolled his eyes and looked out at the dreary weather. The rain brought out a more listless, somber side of him. At least _now_ it did. When he was a kitten, he had to be dragged by the tail _not_ to go out and play in it. He'd ruin his freshly-cleaned fur and track mud all over the place. The grin on his face drooped into a sullen stare. His cold, blue eyes watched the rain in a hypnosis. He was quiet for such a while that Alonzo started to worry. "Munkustrap." Flashing back to reality, he turned to him. "Is everything all right?"

"Yeah." He answered blankly – his default response to anyone that was concerned about him. _Everything's fine._ But with that tone of voice, even _he_ wasn't convinced. The rain brought back memories of that night; the thunder alone was enough to invoke visions of the last time he saw, spoke to, and scented his father. To know the last thing Old Deuteronomy had seen was his son pathetically begging for Macavity's mercy, though he was intelligent enough to know he would never offer it, wounded his soul.

He wondered if Tugger felt this way, or Demeter, or even Mistoffelees... he had not been the only one to suffer that night. Now he wanted to go check on him, though he was sure he wasn't even home right now. His stomach felt tight and his cheeks felt hot from an unexpected queasiness. He found himself having to kneel over and Alonzo put a paw on his back.

"You all right?"

"Yeah." He parroted himself. Now Alonzo knew it was bollocks... but he knew that also meant Munkustrap would rather not talk about it.

"All right. I won't press."

"Thank you."

—

Later in the day, when the rain let up, it was already sunset. He forgot how much shorter the days became as the year's end approached. The day was 'shorter,' but somehow felt longer. Each passing day felt like an eternity as he waited in dread for what was to come. He hated the unpredictability of what awaited him. He had his routine, but even that had been off-schedule. Still, objectively, these past few days had been all right... so why wouldn't the rest of the year go as planned for once? Though, something happened at their _last_ ball, and he couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen during _this_ one as well.

That's why he wanted to look after Demeter, keep her close and safe. He didn't deny she was capable of fending for herself... but her energy would be diminished and she wasn't able to move as quickly as she used to. It was his duty as a husband – and a father – to protect her. He lied next to her and listened to her stomach.

"Can you feel them?"

"Not really..." He felt himself simper and talked into her fur. "Can you hear me?" Demeter snorted. "You hear me?" He spoke in a playful, baby voice. "You hear your mummy and daddy?"

"They hear their _mummy_ , definitely."

"You better know your daddy." He snickered and crawled up beside Demeter. "They'll know me when they see me."

"I ate half my weight in tossed-out kibble today."

"Good. It better have gone to good use."

"You know who I was thinking would be a good kitten-sitter?" Munkustrap raised a curious brow. "Mistoffelees."

"Mistoffelees? He's a kitten himself!"

"He'll be seventeen in a week or so... and think about it! He'd _love_ to show the kittens his magic tricks."

Munkustrap nodded his head. "All right, I see your point. I guess he and Tugger can keep an eye on them if we need them to." He rubbed his paw over her belly with a soft gaze. Demeter kissed his temple.

"You know just because I'm an expecting mother doesn't mean I won't be dancing with you at the ball." She smiled flirtatiously.

"I'm not sure you'll be feeling up to it when the time comes."

She hefted herself upright. "Don't be intimidated that you might have to lift me with all this extra weight!"

This time, _both_ of Munkustrap's brows went up. "Yeah... We'll see about that." Demeter, with a sudden rush of energy, she crawled over to the old radio and twisted it on with her tail. Betty Grable's _Pretty Baby_ came on. It was the middle of November and already they played holiday songs.

Demeter was acting just as jubilant as the day she found out she was going to be a mother. Munkustrap had no clue what had come over her... but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't gladdened by it.

"You're awfully sprightly!"

She plopped down next to him and hugged his arm. "Of course I am!"

 _Everybody loves a baby, that's why I'm in love with you!  
_ _Pretty Baby! (Pretty Baby!)_

Demeter mouthed along. Munkustrap, never in his life, had seen a queen so excited to be a mother. What made this better... he would be their father!

 _And I'd like to be a sister, brother, and mother too!  
_ _Pretty Baby! (Pretty Baby!)  
_ _Won't you come and let me rock you in my cradle of love?  
_ _We'll cuddle all the time! (All the time!)_

The tom gave in, swelled by the music, and lifted her off of her seat, taking her in a dance. She screamed out happily.

 _Oh, I want a loving baby and it might as well be you  
Pretty baby of mine!_

He dipped her to the best of his ability, indeed, she was far heavier than she used to be. If only this moment could last longer.


	10. Spellbound

**Rum Tum Tugger**

Life had gone back to its usual, boring self. Wake up, wander, check what's going on at home, repeat.

Wake up. Repeat.

Wake up. Repeat.

Wake up. Repeat.

There was nothing Tugger despised more than _routine_. His brother, at the very least, found some solace in that things were going as planned for once; nothing unexpected had come his way, and Tugger himself decided to cut him some slack and help move things out of the way for the ball. Anything to keep busy, the Maine Coon would take. It made Munkustrap happy, so he had that.

Demeter was almost there. Looking back to how tiny she was and her kitten bump now, Tugger _finally_ saw the difference. Just another week until the ball now, then _who knows_ when those kittens will be ready. He knew it was game time; when they were ready to come out, they were _coming out_. Strangely, he found himself feeling second-hand fright and elation for his brother and sister-in-law. He had no idea what the responsibilities of being an uncle would require, but he knew they wouldn't be nearly as daunting as being an actual parent. His late nights out would be put on hold for a while, he presumed. Then again, it was good he trained himself to stay up so late... he knew kittens would _not_ be sleeping through the night until they were a good ways along.

In the grand scheme of things, though, Tugger knew _nothing_ about kittens and how to take care of them. He just knew how to make the younger queens swoon. "Kittens are both a blessing and a curse," an older tom had told him one late night, "you feed 'em, wash 'em, give 'em the best years of their lives... but one day they'll act like you don't know a goddamn thing!" Said tom _might've_ been tipsy on... something. Those words stuck with him for some reason.

He heard them around the time he himself thought his father didn't know anything about him... but he truly _didn't!_ Of course, Old Deuteronomy never had to say anything to him to tell him how he was feeling... Tugger could just know by a simple _look_. Old Deuteronomy never aired his feelings to anyone; not him, not Munkustrap, not his tribe... but he understood others'. Just because he didn't _talk_ to cats about it didn't mean he wasn't aware of them. He'd hear Old Deuteronomy share with Munkustrap how nervous he was when _he_ first took the throne, how strange it all was, but how it got easier with time. Tugger knew what a hardhead he'd been in his teen years... he wouldn't deny it. Old Deuteronomy expected everyone to live according to a certain standard... _his_ standards. He fostered every single one of his ethics into Munkustrap, though some of it was just the young tom's personality and not him being a carbon copy of his old man.

In a way, Rum Tum Tugger wished he'd gotten to know him better... he felt like there were many things he hadn't gotten to ask before he went away. Things he didn't have the courage to bring up because his own pride wouldn't let him. Damn him. Damn him _and_ his pride. He remembered some queen that was into astrology had told him it was in his nature to be proud; he was a Leo. Tugger wasn't into any of that stuff, but he let her speak about whatever made her happy in order to have a good time. He would confess that some of it was interesting. He found it funny that Leo was the lion, and that they were fiery and boastful from what she'd described. Sounded accurate enough. Otherwise, he didn't pay attention much.

He wasn't into anything that was 'symbolic,' or at least that's what he'd say. This was the same cat who could dissect song lyrics down into their most basic core meaning. If it mattered to him, he'd take his time and think more deeply about it, but he always kept it to himself. For example, it didn't take a genius to know most of Prince's songs had erotic undertones in every single verse, but _Purple Rain_ had been a different experience the first time he heard it. It was about different groups of people he'd encountered throughout his life, the mistakes he made, how he can never make it better... and lately that song made his heart so heavy that he couldn't even put it on anymore. It was his favorite for a while when he was a teenager.

In fact, he recalled singing it to his father. Not in a performance, but just to him in private. It had been after Tugger recovered from his wounds and could properly use his voice again... he remembered how his father began to weep and held him in his arms... he'd never seen his father cry before that day.

 _I never meant to cause you any sorrow_  
 _I never meant to cause you any pain_  
 _I only wanted to one time to see you laughing_  
 _I only wanted to see you_  
 _Laughing in the purple rain_

 _Purple rain... Purple rain..._

A bird's chittering cracked over the lyrics and Tugger blinked his eyes open. Had he just been singing? No... did he dream it? Something about the song must've come to his mind, but right now he wanted to shut the bird up. It was a little past five in the morning; far too early to be awake. All the leaves had fallen. He pulled down on the branch above him and let go; it flung the bird off and sent it flying. Out of sheer intrigue, Tugger tried to recall what he'd been dreaming about... if he'd had one at all. Nothing came to him. He rubbed his eyes. A low moan reverberated in his throat as he rolled onto his back. He could easily fall back asleep, his breathing was already steadying, but then he heard something just underneath him.

Soft murmuring from a certain adolescent tuxedo. Tugger peered down and remembered Mistoffelees had followed him out the night before; Tugger had promised he'd help him practice his magic act for the ball. They both conked out at about two in the morning. The tom had improved a great deal since so many of the cats loved his tricks and spells. Tugger even told him that he saw _Victoria_ cooing in awe just to boost his confidence. It's what he needed after all the vets had put him through when he was small.

What he needed right now was to be woken up; he was having a nightmare about trying to get his muzzle off. Tugger could tell—Mistoffelees was swiping at his face and convulsing in agony. Tugger reached down and shook his back. "Kid." With a sharp gasp, Mistoffelees opened his eyes. "Relax. You're okay." He said lethargically. Mistoffelees looked around, forgetting that he'd slept in a tree and not his more comfy box at home. He still didn't understand how Tugger did it.

"Sorry I woke you up."

"It's fine." He rasped, closing his eyes. "It's early—go back to sleep." Mistoffelees couldn't – not out of any fear, but because he just couldn't get comfortable and balance himself on the thick branch.

"Hey, Tugger?" Without opening his eyes, he made a soft hum in response. "I wasn't sure about telling you this..." His voice trailed off and Tugger was in no mood to draw it out.

"Tell me _what?_ "

"Um... you were... crying a little."

 _Now_ Tugger blinked, befuddled. "I was?"

"I mean, just a little. I think you were asleep, but I'm not sure."

Tugger shook his head. "It was probably a dream, kid. I slept fine."

"No... I'm pretty sure I was awake. After you lied down, I went back down for a little bit to practice my hat trick. When I came back up was when I heard it."

He suddenly felt furious, only because he was humiliated. God knows he hated crying in front of anyone, crying _at all_ , really. But in his own sleep without his knowing? Not a chance. He couldn't get mad at Mistoffelees; he was just telling him what he observed.

Mistoffelees' head suddenly poked up next to his. "Is it about your dad? Do you want to talk about it?" Again, so eager to listen, so naively pleasant.

He sighed into the cold air, "I don't remember a thing, if I'm honest. But I'm fine." And suddenly, he remembered. He _did_ have a dream. He was singing _Purple Rain_. But his father wasn't there. No one was there to listen, to fill the emptiness of his soul. That much was coming back to him, but nothing else. Tugger was _not_ disposed to let Misto know, however. He felt his chest expand and widen until there was only a gaping hole left, and he was now hollow. Nothing to seal the gap.

Mistoffelees pulled himself onto the branch with him. "You let me talk about everything _I've_ been through... it doesn't feel fair."

"I'd _tell_ you if something was upsetting me. Trust me."

Mistoffelees cocked his head to the side. "No you wouldn't."

Tugger had already closed his eyes again. "...You're right. I wouldn't." Mistoffelees knew he wasn't in any mood to chat about it. No time for prying, especially with a sleepy bear of a cat. Mistoffelees nudged up against him so that they shared some warmth. Tugger didn't care how close or far he was, he just wanted some silence.

—

Hours later, when it was much brighter out, Tugger stirred out of an uneasy sleep and uncomfortable dreams. Distressed grunts and and moans jumped from his throat as he twitched awake. He must've eaten something bad, he thought, to have conjured up such vivid images while he slept. Visions of a corpse's steaming entrails being violently ripped out as its flesh was flayed off its skin. There had been more, but it had already faded from his memory... thank goodness. He didn't want to know what else there had been. He turned to check on Mistoffelees, only he was gone. He sat up and looked around, "Misto?" He jumped down and sniffed for his scent. He hadn't gone too far.

He found him near the pond, he was intensely following a fish around with his head, but failing every time he swiped at it with his paw. The water was _bitingly_ cold. Tugger approached with a smirk, "What are you up to now?"

"What's it look like?" He sniped. "I've been trying to catch this thing for ten minutes. I swear, he's taunting me!" Tugger poked his head over the water and spotted the swirling shadow. "God, what is it about fish that make them so complicated to catch—" Cutting him off, Tugger dunked his head under and pulled out the flailing minnow between his teeth. He chomped down and it went still.

He spit it out next to Mistoffelees with a cocky grin. " _That_ woke me up!" He laughed. The cold had destroyed all the leftover drowsiness.

Mistoffelees' ears went flat, "Touché..."

Tugger wiped his face dry, fixed the curl in his mane so that it was perfect. "I've been fishing for _years_ , kid. What the hell did _you_ survive on until you moved in?"

"Scraps and whatever I could steal from houses..." He said lowly. He took a dainty bite out of the pond creature. "I'm just gonna start pulling animals out of hats, that way we get breakfast on express delivery!"

Tugger snorted, "That _would_ save us a lot of trouble."

Mistoffelees picked up the fish, but before he went to eat, he asked, "Do you think Victoria will wanna dance with me at the ball?"

"I'm sure if you ask her, she will."

"I can't just _ask_."

"The worst she can say is 'no.'" Tugger said.

"Has anyone ever told _you_ 'no?'"

"You'd be surprised." He chuckled and fixed his vest. "Just don't take it personally."

"I just hope I don't screw up any of my tricks."

"You're not gonna screw up. I'll be there to make sure it goes according to plan."

Mistoffelees pressed his claws into the minnow's scales. "I don't rely on plans, I just want to be ready in case—" A short, sharp puncture into the skin unexpectedly sprayed out a spurt of blood that, wholly by accident, hit Tugger in the face. "Oh jeez! Tugger," he pushed the fish aside, but then saw Tugger's manner change. All the color left his face. His eyes were wide; shaking, horrified. "Here, let me—!"

Tugger inched past Mistoffelees and dug his paws into the lake, cupping water up to his face and fur, pulling to wash it off. It got on his paws and he scratched to remove it in jerking motions. It looked like he might tear his own skin off!

"Tugger!" He grabbed his face and forced him to look his way. He'd never seen him so shaken... not since... Mistoffelees brushed the water away with his tail. "It's okay." He said, ready to tear up from how terrified he'd been. He gave him some space, but Tugger was utterly mortified. His lip was aquiver. Looking down, Mistoffelees could see the old, faded cuts on his arms, left there by Macavity. He'd left much more than that, more that could not be seen. Bizarrely, Tugger was thankful that it was Mistoffelees there with him and nobody else... not even with Munkustrap could he feel so secure about having such a fit in front of.

But it didn't take away the shame he felt.

"It's okay." He said again. He rubbed his back while Tugger stared blankly into the water; red swirls of blood continued to cloud the surface.

* * *

 **Bombalurina**

Jemima launched right past the Somali and towards Jellylorum, "Auntie Jelly! What collar should I wear to the ball? I like my spiky one, but Victoria said I should wear something red."

"It's whatever _you_ want, dearie."

"I know!" The bright-eyed kitten gleamed, "I'll ask Demeter!" She again went skittering past Bombalurina, not even noticing she was there. Good grief. Even the male kittens, Pouncival, George, and Victor were spying on the calico. They were climbing over each other to get a better look at her while she preened to get ready. The nerve of them, thought Bombalurina, to not even try to peek at _her_ while she was dressing for the ball.

She used to be what they fantasized about, yet she was outshined by a _pregnant_ queen. But she wasn't defeated yet. It would pass. Bombalurina went over to the toms and dragged them off by their ears. "Naughty, _naughty_ kitties. Shame on you, spying on a pregnant cat while she's unfit to be seen." She teased. "No less, the _leader's_ mate?" She let them all go and folded her arms. "What would Munkustrap say?"

They all looked guilty. With their ears and tails low, Pouncival spoke up, "We didn't mean any harm..."

"I know. Toms will be toms... but wouldn't you rather be known as gentlecats instead of drooling dogs?"

"We're not _dogs_!" George scowled.

"You certainly _bark_ like a dog. _Woof woof._ " She sneered. They all flushed and sank low. "I hope you don't get too cold tonight. If you do, I've got a performance that'll heat you up in no time." She swung her tail and strutted past them. They were entranced. There we go, she still had it after all. Did she honestly think she'd be threatened by—

Demeter hurried past, and the three kits' eyes averted from her bottom to the queen's yellow-green eyes and soft grin. It drowned what pride she'd regained and she clenched her fist. With a tough bite of her lip, she quit the scene in a huff. The opinions of immature teenagers shouldn't matter to a cat in her thirties anyhow... only _one_ of them made a difference to her. But where was he? It was almost sundown and time for the festivities to begin, yet he was nowhere to be found.

In fact, she wondered where on earth _Munkustrap_ was. He was in charge, yet she hadn't seen him around either. Poor thing must be scared out of his wits to have so much on his plate. Directing and narrating a play was enough stress for him. She knew about the coronation, but didn't think they'd throw it on him so soon. _She_ was still in disbelief that Old Deuteronomy was gone. It wouldn't surprise her if he was beside himself somewhere, shaking off enough fur to create another full-grown tom. _Pity_. She could think of a way or two to calm him down, but he was such a ridiculous prude that he wouldn't know what to do with a sexy queen if she lied down right on top of him.

Then again, he'd gotten Demeter pregnant, so he must have _some_ idea of what he's doing. He knew where to put _what_.

Perhaps she shouldn't be so ruthless when it came to the Mau's sex life; lord knows what ideas conservative Old Deuteronomy put into his head growing up. He would figure it out eventually... _Tugger_ certainly had. Curious beast. How long _had_ it been since they had some fun? A month already? That was far too long. She had to admire his patience in that case, because she was growing anxious the more she thought of it. She could pick out every other Jellicle she'd grown up with nearby, but not him. _He'll turn up soon. Relax. Play it cool._

They were serving treats and hot tea. Bombalurina took a small paper cup and finished in a few gulps. She marched through the throng of excited Jellicles. Even when it was four degrees out they were all smiles, all energy. She was glad it wasn't raining (for once) and it snowed maybe once throughout the month, but the city heat didn't allow it to last once the flakes touched the ground. The most they got was some frost on the many objects they climbed and slept on.

That was London for you. Bombalurina, meanwhile, had trailed across pure white sheets out in the open fields, untouched by human buildings. Love-making in the snow was a much more queer experience than she'd anticipated. She kept getting pushed underneath deep heaps and the tom had to stop and search for her. She'd take a small step and she'd sink three feet in, leaving nothing but her silhouette behind. Yet, she preferred city life. So many more things to do and so much more going on. While a more humble life _sometimes_ sounded more appealing, she found herself drawn to what kept her more active, and she could never betray what her senses wanted.

The lynx-like cat slunk over towards Exotica, a Havana Brown, and Tantomile, Coricopat's twin sister. "How are my beloved sisters from other whiskers?" She sang.

"Just well." Crooned the chocolate-brown queen. "You enjoying yourself?"

"I would be a little more if it wasn't so cold. I'm hoping to warm up with someone by the end of the night."

Tantomile sniggered. "It better not be my brother. Last time you two got together, you left him with three scratches across his face."

"What can I say?" She leered casually, "I like 'em _rough_."

Exotica looked around. "Well, I can say the decor this year is just _lovely_. Look at those lights! And humans think we don't appreciate their conveniences."

"Humans are blind _without_ those things." Said Bombalurina. "They're more of a necessity than a luxury to them."

Tantomile suddenly came forward and pet Bombalurina's face, "Honestly, how do you keep your coat so shiny? Every five minutes I'm running off somewhere to clean the dirt off."

"Well, you're coat's dark, so you can get away with more. I learned a trick or two in the time I was away. There's a reason humans prefer water instead of using their tongues." Out of nowhere, there was a high-pitched wail that alerted all three queens. They looked and saw Rumpleteazer and Mungojerrie being chased off by an angry Tumblebrutus for stealing the goods out of his dish. The twins were laughing as they made their escape. He swiped his paw out at them with a hiss.

"There's also a reason why humans aren't _fond_ of cats." Exotica said with a giggle.

"They're _awful_ influences on the kittens... I'm surprised Munkustrap doesn't have the sense to make them leave!" Tantomile grumbled.

"They're not _all_ bad." Exotica chided.

"Disruptive imbeciles in _my_ experience!"

A wonderful, _delicious_ aroma stung Bombalurina's nose and she looked around. She saw Rum Tum Tugger and Munkustrap taking center stage. She wasn't even listening to what her friends had to say anymore.

"Excuse me!" Munkustrap called, but he wasn't heard over the commotion. "If I can have your attention!" He said a little louder. But nothing.

"SHUT THE HELL UP!" Rum Tum Tugger shouted. All the cats turned and went silent.

Munkustrap's ear twitched, " _Thank you_ , Tugger..." Bombalurina put her paw over her lips, curving into a slight giggle. She looked over and saw Demeter sitting to the side, smiling at her mate. She gave him a wink when he turned to her. _How sweet..._ She found herself thinking. If only Tugger would even care if _she_ gave him such a gesture. She did know _one_ queen that always got Tugger's attention... and it irked her more than it should.

She always noticed at how Cassandra wouldn't interact directly with the Maine Coon, but he always looked her way when she walked by, and she would wink, smile, blow him kisses. She'd seen the two sometimes brush tails when they slipped by... and more often, Cassandra would make a firm grab on his rear, and he'd give her a look to let her know that he noticed... and wasn't objecting. What, she would ask, _what_ made her so different than what _they_ had?

...Did they have more and common than her and Tugger? Were they regulars as well? Or was there something deeper than what she was seeing. If so, why hadn't Tugger mentioned it? Then again, if he had paired off with anyone, the entire tribe would be an uproar. Odds are she would've known by now. Maybe she was putting too much thought into it and it was just another queen flirting with the tribe's favorite tom. _Most_ of the tribe's, at least.

She snapped out of her daydreams when she saw Tugger stepping forward. "And now, toms and queens, for our first performance of our annual winter ball, we have someone special, someone you all know and love... besides me." Munkustrap rolled his eyes. "He is quiet, he is small, he is black from his ears to the tip of his tail! He can creep through the tiniest crack! He can walk on the narrowest rail!" The spotlight came on behind him. "I give you the Marvelous, the Magical Mister Mistoffelees!" The leopard-spotted cat stepped aside and Mr. Mistoffelees made is entrance. Bombalurina clapped with everyone else. Even with all her pride, she was somewhat endeared by the cat's tricks and illusions. Not to mention, it tickled her how much Tugger cared for the funny little teen.

Mistoffelees had extensive ballet and gymnastic experience; it showed in his performance! He twirled and twisted without fail, lightning and fire going in every direction. He sprinkled small, glittering stars around Victoria, who smiled at him. He grinned widely and pressed on, but Bombalurina saw his entire face turn pink when he did.

 _"Presto!"_ He made colorful lights dance across the junkyard, the cats swatted the air, trying to catch them.

"MAGICAL." Tugger proclaimed, proud of his buddy. The entire time, he'd been cheering as much as the others. Mistoffelees whispered something in Tugger's ear, even _Tugger_ looked surprised to hear whatever he was suggesting. Bombalurina read his lips, "It's your call, buddy." With an uncertain expression, Mistoffelees stepped to front stage.

"I'll need a volunteer for this next trick. You'll find it's very... uplifting." He smiled eagerly at Tugger, who nodded back, hiding how lame his pun had been. Munkustrap had no idea what was about to happen. All of the kittens his age raised their arms, waved their tails for his attention, but Misto hesitated. The poor thing looked like he was about to back down. But his older pal casually trudged closer, slammed his hip into his back and he nearly fell into Victoria.

Bombalurina watched curiously; would he shy away... he looked like it. But he firmed up. He held his paw out to her, and the white kitten took his. He escorted her on stage; his paws were shaking. He looked nervously at Rum Tum Tugger, but he gave him another look of approval. The tuxedo tom gingerly tied a sash around their waists to keep them close. Victoria didn't seem nervous—in fact, she _helped_ him make sure it was secure.

He took a deep breath as he tenderly grasped her shoulders. The trusting gaze of her noctilucous azure eyes melted him. He nearly forgot what he was supposed to be doing. Mistoffelees then cued Alexandre Desplat's _Overflow of Love_.

Then, like the Everlasting Cat had picked them up by the shoulders, they levitated. The cats marveled in awe and surprise... Tugger covered his mouth while he yawned. They twirled in small circles as they rose at least twenty feet into the air; Victoria showed no fear. Somehow, this all felt normal to her. Mistoffelees had her tight under her arms and she trusted that he would not drop her. Naturally responding to his every movement, like the dancer inside of her knew, she would lean back and twist, allowing them to perform graceful poses in midair. One would believe it was rehearsed! Mistoffelees had not planned this, so much that it seemed now Victoria would lead him across the sky as they floated.

Soon she trusted him enough to let go, floating above him in a horizontal pose as he held onto her neck, nuzzling her. Mistoffelees untied the sash and wiggled it off; they didn't need it. It was too restraining. It tumbled past them in a swift movement and Bombalurina found herself as spellbound as the others, unable to emote properly at the sight. They emerged again from the soft dark of night, now moving freely into whatever position they liked. Rising and falling through the air as if they'd flown before. He put his arm around her and she did him, letting each other dangle by their ankles or tails, somersaulting seamlessly back into position. The cats continued to applaud with every single feat, but Bombalurina could not, only because she was gaping at something else.

Something _beyond_ what her eyes could see. She was watching two young, free-spirited kittens fall in love. It was clear as day in their eyes. Misto had been smitten for months, but now it was pure and true. He reaches out to her, to himself, there is no difference. No barriers between them. And now, Bombalurina could not but watch in a mixture of wonder and envy. Victoria lied over his shoulder as they lowered one more time to the ground, Misto had difficulty getting her down, but the song had not yet finished. Just one more trick left.

Dashing in a circle, they rose again, the tom holding onto her waist, twisting out in paw-holds and back together again, they span in large rotations. Demeter, with her hormones off the charts, was choking up into Munkustrap's arm. He himself hadn't been able to close his mouth the entire time. Finally, they landed. Back on earth, both on their feet. Mistoffelees looked dizzy while Victoria was graceful and composed. The cats screamed in a roar of applause. Misto, with Victoria's paw in his, bowed alongside her. Tugger hooted off to the side, catching Bombalurina's ear.

If only, she found herself musing, if only their first encounter had been so pure; maybe things would've been different between them... Or maybe not.


	11. Assassin

**Munkustrap**

The entirety of the ball, Munkustrap had been happy and slackened. Such a rare occasion, yet so appreciated by everyone else around him. He had Demeter in his arm most of the night, talking with others and laughing. The only occasional serious glance he'd throw out were if the Bengal twins looked like they were plotting havok, or if one of his border guards were giving him the thirty-minute 'okay' mark. The kittens came up to him to play-pounce on him if he passed them by, snuggling up against his legs (when they weren't trying to climb up Tugger's or gaping at the latter's tail and bottom). Munkustrap could claim that he loved the kittens as if they were his own, but that statement would soon be tested.

Something about these kittens truly being _his_ creation... it was an indescribable phenomenon. He found himself wishing his father were there so he could ask what _he_ felt when he and his brother were born. Munkustrap remembered when Rum Tum Tugger was born like it happened yesterday. He was born on August sixth, when Munkustrap was four years old. He recalled being brought to the blanketed cardboard box in which his father's mate was lying. Munkustrap heard him before he saw him—his newborn sibling mewing in confusion and hunger. The noise was all too familiar for Old Deuteronomy, but no less magical. Another kitten he'd brought into this world. A young Maine Coon, no less. Old Deuteronomy knew this would be his last... for his age would catch up to him by the time he moved on to another mate. His mate was still licking the waif clean when he poked his head in. The babe was reaching for her nipple, wherever it was.

"Was it all right?"

"Yes."

"A boy or a girl?"

"A boy."

Old Deuteronomy turned eagerly to the anxious Munkustrap. "You ready to come inside and meet your baby brother?" The kitten nodded vigorously. He'd been waiting for the last two months! Already the little one had so much fur! What would become his wild mane were but little gold patches behind his small, rounded ears. He squeaked for milk, his eyes were squeezed shut; he navigated his itty-bitty face through her fur until he latched onto her breast and started feeding.

"He's so small!" Munkustrap marveled. His father and step-mother laughed.

"He won't be for long." Said she.

"You're hungry, aren't you?" He whispered, getting closer. The kit let go for a moment, crawling towards the noise. He was wheezing slightly as he looked around.

"Is he all right?" Asked Old Deuteronomy quietly.

"I think it's just the stress. He'll calm down." Said the queen.

The tiny creature rolled over onto his back as he tried to turn around, but twisted himself back up. He walked in shaky, stiff steps. For the first time, he took in his brother's scent. "Good little brother!" Munkustrap mewed happily. The small kitten's nose twitched and in that instant, sneezed right in the older tom's face. Munkustrap shook his face around and rubbed with his paw.

Old Deuteronomy was laughing, "I think that's his special way of saying he likes you." Immediately, the kitten wanted to go back to his mother; he was tired, his breaths were heavy and shallow. Just that short walk exhausted him. The kitten proceeded to drink.

"You're _hungry!_ " Laughed Munkustrap. "Do _all_ kittens drink that much?"

"Mhm." Answered the she-cat. "They need their milk so they can grow up strong."

"Like the Great Rumpus Cat!"

"Yes, of course!" She smiled. Munkustrap watched his brother in awe, as if it was the most remarkable thing he'd ever seen. Old Deuteronomy was pleased; he'd worried that the little one would be jealous of the attention and time the newborn was going to require. If anything, Munkustrap was determined to be as much help as he could. He wanted to be the best big brother ever. He even took some time to clean his little brother, though the kit would involuntarily push away with his paw.

"You need a bath!" He'd repeatedly say until the younger tom would submit and stop whining. Munkustrap was too young to recognize the issues he was having breathing, and how slow his heart rate was, hence to why he wanted to do nothing but sleep and feed. Old Deuteronomy was fearful—not just for the poor, innocent newborn, but for Munkustrap. Should he not make it past his first _month_ , what would he tell him? He was just a kitten himself, and had no understanding of death, more so the idea that something _so young_ could die.

What neither Old Deuteronomy nor his mate knew at the time was that the Maine Coon was sometimes able to gain enough energy to crawl out of their arms at night and wander about. His weak little legs didn't carry him far, and once he tired out, he'd cry from fear that he was alone and lost. One time, the first cat to hear his distressed calls was Munkustrap, and immediately the young protector went looking. He found him less than five feet away... inquisitive thing had fallen behind a garbage pile and couldn't crawl back out. As soon as Munkustrap peered over and the little kit eyed him, all tears ceased.

Now, he reached for him happily, stiff tail as high up as it could go.

"You're so silly." Munkustrap reached down and grabbed him by the scruff of his neck with his mouth. He brought him back over to his pillow; he pat it down flat and set him down. Instantly, he tried to crawl away again. "Nope!" Munkustrap grabbed him by the tail and pulled him back. "You need to go to sleep." The kitten only continued to resist and tried to wiggle out of his hold. Finally, Munkustrap got him to sit still. He tried to think of which song either his father or mother would sing to get him to sleep... the kit's voice had not flourished _just yet_ , but as a Jellicle, it was natural that he could sing well. Dancing came later, once he could actually keep steady on his own feet.

The sweet little kit was having trouble hitting such difficult notes; his breathy voice crackled, but to his brother, it was soothing. It was a voice he knew. With big green eyes, he looked at him as though he were hypnotized. To him, and anyone listening, his voice was beautiful because it came from a place of immaculate, unquestionable love.

 _Somewhere out there  
Beneath the pale moonlight  
Someone's thinking of me  
And loving me tonight_

 _Somewhere out there  
Someone's saying a prayer  
That we'll find one another  
In that big somewhere out there_

 _And even though I know how very far apart we are  
It helps to think we might be wishing on the same bright star  
And when the night wind starts to sing a lonesome lullaby  
It helps to think we're sleeping underneath the same big sky_

 _Somewhere out there  
If love can see us through  
Then we'll be together  
Somewhere out there  
Out where dreams come true..._

And soon, the kitten was fast asleep in his arms, and Munkustrap himself was worn out. But he didn't mind the tiredness that came with little ones... that's how it was going to be, hoped Munkustrap. He and Demeter would sing to their sweet babies each night with them nestled between them. For the fifth time that evening, he stopped to ask her how she was feeling.

"I'm _fine_." She asserted. "If I go into labor, I'll loudly scream that I'm going into labor."

"Okay. Don't forget." He said in such a serious voice that Demeter almost didn't realize that he was joking. She wasn't as accustomed to his deadpan sense of humor as everyone else. Being the plain-spoken tabby he was, him cracking a joke was enough to get the entire tribe laughing only because no one expected it. Looking off to his right, he saw his brother doing his usual thing; Cassandra was warming up to him along with Tantomile, even _Rumpleteazer_ was cooing at him. The kittens were all at his feet, and while he was playing along with _them_ , he was blatantly ignoring Bombalurina... which she was used to. Munkustrap expected nothing less from his brother... but he was _his_ little brother, and if anyone had something to say about him, they'd have to deal with _him_ first.

"Ah, Munkustrap!" He and Demeter whirled around and saw Mungojerrie approaching them. "I wanted to tell you that you've done a great job at getting all this together!"

Both mates looked stunned; Munkustrap hadn't expected such sincerity from him. "Thank you, Mungojerrie." He even _sounded_ astonished. Mungojerrie simply tipped his head. "Are you and your sister having a good time?"

"Oh, yes! We were both saying how Old Deuteronomy would be really proud of you."

Demeter looked furtively at her husband, who instead of showing dismay, seemed contented by his words. "I thank you for that as well." He answered. Demeter settled.

Mungojerrie looked at her; she feared for a moment that Mungojerrie might've read her thoughts, but he instead asked her pleasantly, "How have you been, carrying the kittens?"

"All right. I'm a little more plucky than usual. I cried earlier during Misto's performance." She sniggered. Munkustrap could not be more glad at this exchange; all smiles and politeness. The night was not yet over, though. From the corner of his eye, he caught Alonzo giving him 'the signal.' He wanted the crowning to happen soon... and in a way, so did Munkustrap. Because once it was over with, the other would stop pestering him about it. He let go of Demeter's paw and excused himself.

Instead of seeking Alonzo, he went to go find Rum Tum Tugger. He was, to his confusion, lying on a pile of planks watching from where he sat. "What are _you_ doing up there? I thought you were supposed to be breaking hearts."

"Not feeling it tonight." He answered, patent. Munkustrap pondered his response, but let it go just as rapidly.

"Alonzo wants to start the coronation."

At that, Tugger raised his head up, _"Now?"_

"That's what we've been planning."

"Well jeez, bro! Way to kill the atmosphere, don't you think?" That was _one_ way of voicing his concerns—Munkustrap interpreted it as he was worrying that _everyone_ _else_ would feel just as caught off guard as they did. Tonight had been simple and casual. Nothing formal and of such remarkable meaning. He licked his lips and turned to see everyone having a wonderful time. "Do you think you're ready?" Asked Tugger.

"I don't know. But I don't think I _will_ until I finally go through with it." He thought about delaying it just for a week or two more, at least until his kittens were born... but he knew that the others had been anxious about the crowning, and it was his duty to serve the tribe. They needed a real leader and had gone much too long without one. He looked back at Tugger and needed to say nothing to tell him his decision. In Munkustrap's crystal-like blue eyes, Tugger saw the uncertainty. Munkustrap saw that _he_ saw how he was petrified. He had to get past that. He was a grown tom; he needed to stop avoiding what was necessary.

—

Munkustrap had informed both Demeter and Alonzo that he was ready to make the announcement. Once he stood in the center of his tribe and they all raised their right paws to him, he was Jellicle Leader. It was time to bid farewell to his days as an heir. It's what his father had prepared him for all his life, but that didn't lessen how much his paws were shaking. He intertwined his fingers together to steady them, but his heart still pounded. He'd told Old Deuteronomy what fears he had, but was reminded that it was natural. Experience would change him, thought the silver tabby. It would all come to him. His heart commenced to beat like a kickstand against his chest and he felt himself needing to take deep breaths. In and out.

Alonzo got the cats' attention and they all quieted. _In and out._

"You all know that it is with great sorrow that Old Deuteronomy, our beloved leader, made his final journey to the heaviside layer in spring of this year." The shorthair paused. "But as the year comes to an end, so will our grievances." _In and out. In and out. In and out._ "After a long wait, we are ready to announce our new leader. One we have all known and depended on for years gone by, and will look up to for years to come." At that, Alonzo summoned him. _Inandoutinandoutinandoutinandout._

His heart full of misgivings was veiled by a look of neutral satisfaction and earnesty. The cats all turned his way; eyes he'd known for his entire life so far suddenly made his skin itch. Tugger and Demeter were upon them; his family was permitted to be the closest and thus the _first_ to touch him and accept his leadership.

Alonzo, trying not to welt up from seeing his very best friend take the place he worked so hard to get to, announced. "Jellicles facing east, I present to you, Munkustrap, your undoubted leader! Jellicles facing west, I present to you, Munkustrap, your undoubted—"

"LOOK OUT!"

In a flash, a tom's body flung itself over Munkustrap's. The kittens were screaming and there was turbulent commotion all around him. He didn't even get a chance to react; Munkustrap feverishly adjusted his vision and felt the body upon his. He felt something sticky on his paw when he struggled against the weight on him. The familiar substance known as blood. It stuck on his fur and he panted tirelessly, struggling to get the limp body off.

 _"Help him!"_ Shouted what sounded like Skimbleshanks. _"Find them! Find the attacker!"_ Others were crowding around him and off of Munkustrap's body they pulled Mungojerrie; he'd been sliced clean across the nape of his neck. The blood swam down his back. He moaned in agony.

"Jerrie? _Jerrie!"_ Shouted an anguished queen. Munkustrap put his paw over the Bengal's wound, but the blood kept coming and it only seemed to cause more pain. He couldn't even speak a word of thanks or even ask what had happened. No language could express the turmoil and panic that had been unleashed. He looked around, horrified, looking for... for...

Plato had Demeter; he was hiding her and standing as her shield. The kittens were grouped up and protected by the Burmese twins. Where was Tugger? Where was Alonzo? Rumpleteazer shoved Munkustrap's arm away and licked her brother's injuries.

"Brother! Brother, speak to me!" She cried. She turned him over and listened to his chest. Tears poured down her face. "Find who did it!" She shouted with rage. "FIND HIM!" Munkustrap's entire body was shaking when he got to his feet, and by the time he looked in the direction he thought the invader would go, he saw Alonzo and Rum Tum Tugger dragging back a weakened and brutalized tabby.

He could not even feel _anger_ he was so overcome with disbelief. His instincts had told him something would happen at the ball, and he _listened_ , but he took no precaution. What had he done? The two cats threw down the assassin, Tugger spit on him. He no longer had the strength to look up at the heir he'd tried to abolish. Munkustrap lifted his head up... his eyes dulled.

It was a Copperkit. The large Savannah Cat.

"What do you want us to do with the fucker?" Alonzo sniped violently. "More like which eye do _I_ claw out and which one do _you?_ " The foreigner was barely conscious as it was; they had showed him no mercy in hunting him down. Catching Old Deuteronomy hadn't even been so easy...

His father was all that came to mind. He breathed; his chest heaved in and out. "No one's..." He said without any air reaching his lungs. "No one's scratching anyone's eyes out." Both Alonzo and Tugger looked bewildered. "Take him away. Tie him up." He did not have to hurt anyone. Not here. Not now. Alonzo and Tugger obeyed, though the latter was far more reluctant to. Munkustrap turned back to Mungojerrie; he was taking deep breaths as Jellylorum tended to his injuries and Rumpleteazer cried into his paw. Munkustrap spoke to him. "Are you okay? Can you hear me?" The Bengal wordlessly nodded; he was too light-headed to think. "Get him somewhere safe. Sanitize the wounds." The two carried him off and Munkustrap sprinted towards the shaking, frantic Demeter.

"Wha— What happened—?"

He took her paws; he still had Mungojerrie's blood drying on his shoulder and down his arm. "It's okay! Are you okay?" He checked her all over, making sure nothing had touched her. He kissed her forehead and held her tightly against his body. "You're safe now. You're safe." Neither could leave their hiding spot, not even to go back to their blanket. She latched onto him and he was determined never to let go.


	12. Choice

**Munkustrap**

"Bro." Someone whispered as they tentatively squeezed Munkustrap's shoulder and his eyes opened.

Darting around in search of his beloved mate, he saw her lying on her back only inches away. She breathed gently in her sleep. Munkustrap turned to who had summoned him: Tugger.

"We need to you to take care of the prisoner." He said. He hadn't slept all night.

"You got him locked up?" Tugger nodded. "Is someone watching him?"

"Just everybody in the fucking tribe." He bemoaned. "Are you okay?"

"I am..." It finally began to dawn on him; he'd survived his first assassination attempt. _First?_ Why did he say that like there would be more? He shuddered, "Oh God."

"Easy, easy!" Tugger helped him settle down. "You're lucky you're the only cat I take orders from; I'd be wearing that fucker's claws as a necklace if it were up to me."

"We don't need to hurt him."

At that, Tugger flushed. "He tried to _kill_ you!"

"There are better ways of dealing with it. Violence isn't one of them." He asserted, standing up. "Last time I tried to use that, it ended up with me _just_ as close to dying as I was last night." He reminded. Tugger preferred not to think about it. In a way, he was right, but that didn't make him any less angry.

"You better at least let me rip off his—"

"I need _you_ to stay with Demeter." He ordered. "Make sure she's okay when she wakes up." Tugger hated at how he had no other option but to listen, but he knew she couldn't be left alone after the spectacle. His jaw twitched slightly, but he kept his mouth shut. Before even going to wear they kept the old carriers and crates, he went to Jennyanydots' spot, where the kittens were (somehow) asleep. "Is everyone all right?"

"They were a little shook up, but I got them to calm down."

"Even Jemima?"

"She slept on top of me most of the night, but she's fine." Munkustrap looked sadly at the pile of little ones; Pouncival still seemed to be shaking. Jennyanydots saw the crimson that had saturated Munkustrap's fur; dried into a deep brown over his silver and black coat. "I was a mess _myself_ last night. Who could _believe_ this would happen? I still feel like I'm standing beside myself."

"Do you know how Mungojerrie's doing?"

"He's going to be okay! Nothing vital or even an artery was struck. He just needed to be patched up."

"Where is he now?"

"Jellylorum still has him, from what I know. She gave him some poppy milk to calm him down."

 _Jesus._ Munkustrap thought. _He's probably_ still _knocked out_. Going to see him now might be useless then. He couldn't exactly check on someone while they were unconscious. Choosing to give him more time to sleep, he crossed the gravel to find where they were keeping the purpetrator. Admetus was leering through the metal bars, snapping his jaws and hissing. All motion stopped when he saw Munkustrap approaching with an incredibly disapproving look. Admetus, without an iota of regret for his gestures, stepped away and left, giving one more snarl. With forced calmness, Munkustrap peered into the cage where the Copperkit stood; he looked terrified when he saw him. His fur bristled and he growled, but the Jellicle tom shook his head.

"Relax. I'm not going to hurt you... though everyone _else_ here wants to." He swallowed thickly, masking the displeasure he had in interrogating him with a brutal glare. "I'm going to ask you _who_ sent you and _why_." No answer. Munkustrap pressed his lips together and leaned forward. "I've got all day."

Out of the blue, the Copperkit forcefully grabbed the metal bars, making Munkustrap jerk back. "It was wise of that old bugger to jump in the way when he did. That would've been _your_ neck bleeding out all over the floor." Munkustrap couldn't hide how startled he was by his ferocity. His eyes widened briefly. The cat wasn't afraid, he was _angry_. It turned his blood to ice. "I'd take a beating all over again just to watch you struggle." The entire spiel he'd planned out escaped him and Munkustrap could only stare, colored pale from the bitterness of his words. His shaking could be mistaken for shivering in the frigid air, but his face plainly spoke fear.

Biting his lip to subdue his nerves, he asked, "Why did you try to have me killed last night?" He knew who was behind this... it only made sense... but _why_? No. He had to hear it for himself.

"I was given instructions, so I followed."

" _Whose_ orders?"

"Are you really that daft?" No, he wasn't, and he didn't even have the _excuse_ of being absent-minded for not foreseeing this. "You've met him once before... Granted, I understand you're not accustomed to these types of things happening in your tribe. I guess that's what happens when your father doesn't know how to raise a proper heir."

At that, Munkustrap's blood frenzied and his eyes went opaque. He _dared?_ He could hardly suppress his desire to lash his face, but that wouldn't be couth or responsible of him, _especially_ after he'd told Tugger he didn't need violence... and he didn't! He was better than that, his _father_ was better than that, but _Hell_ did this tom test him. On top of that, if he resorted to harming him, then the rest of the tribe would think mutilation was acceptable. He held back with all his might, though he felt his claws nailing the dirt underneath him. It was so much that he couldn't even look upon him anymore. Any thoughts of _mercy_ had drifted from his mind, and all that came was contempt.

He heard himself gasp, "How dare he?" He cursed him under his breath. To hurt his own pride was one thing, but to dare utter Old Deuteronomy's name with such disdain... He couldn't understand it. The tom _hated_ him. He'd never met him before and gave him a place to sleep, yet he wanted him to die. It was clear in his eyes. But _why?_ What did he want that he couldn't give him? If it was _his father_ that they were after, then _revenge_ had been reaped; he's already dead! It made no sense! What had _Raithen_ offered the assassin should he have been successful? It was too boggling to wrap his head around, so much that Munkustrap did not go back to his queen, nor his companions straightaway, but instead found some water to clean the rusted blood from his coat. It was freezing.

It was _then_ that he sought Mungojerrie. He was already awake when he came to see him; Rumpleteazer was helping change his bandages when he stepped inside the large barrel in which he lied. "Mungojerrie?"

The tom was still half-dazed; zero light visible in his eyes as the effects of the poppy milk had yet to fade. "Munkustrap..." He smiled as if he'd been drugged. "You... You all good?" He said in a slur. He'd _just_ risen from his death-like sleep. Jellylorum was known for finding the right concoctions to help the cats heal. Rumpleteazer had the gauze in her mouth and couldn't reply right away. It was the most focused, most nurturing Munkustrap had _ever_ seen her behave.

He eyed the drowsy Bengal. "I should be asking _you_ that."

"Oh yeah. I don't even feel it, to tell you the truth!"

"Ignore him. He's still loopy." Rumpleteazer said as if Munkustrap couldn't already tell.

He knelt down in front of them and held Mungojerrie's gaze. "I don't know how to thank you for saving my life the way you did."

"Nonsense!" He sputtered, still grinning. "We Jellicles look after our own. We're brethren. I know you easily would've done the same for one of us." As he said this, Rumpleteazer was nodding vigorously.

"Absolutely." Munkustrap agreed. "But there needs to be _some_ way I can make it up to you or help out while you're recovering!" _Please_ , he found himself begging, _anything!_ He was even willing to aid one of their robberies if they requested it... though he wouldn't particularly _enjoy_ it.

Mungojerrie was much too out of it to put any rational thought into it. Rumpleteazer lied him back down and said, "Once he's rested up, we'll talk about it. But don't worry about that right now. Look after yourself." She insisted.

 _Easier said than done..._

—

Going back to the spot he and Demeter had lied, he was (and wasn't) surprised to see Alonzo there waiting for him instead.

"Where're Demeter and Tugger?"

"I told them to go back to your usual mark so we could speak in private."

Still chilled by the Copperkit's words, Munkustrap tersely replied, "You just sent my wife and my brother away instead of coming to find me?"

"I'm sorry, but they said you'd be coming back here and I didn't know where you'd be."

"Well, what is it then? I've already had a 'chat' with our little visitor. He's not exactly a conversationalist."

"Nor is he a fighter. It looks like he thought he could escape with a quick, clean death. Hmph. He's never met a Jellicle, clearly."

"I'm glad you were there to help last night, but now I have to ask, do you think it was deliberate that he waited moments before you could crown me? Nothing else would make much sense." He realized he'd answered his own question. "Never mind that. What do you have in mind in terms of... _dealing_ with him?"

"I haven't thought about it. It's not my decision."

"I can't make it alone, Alonzo." He said almost desperately. "I know letting him go would be risky and it'd make me look like an idiot... but I can't just keep him locked up so he'll starve!"

"So throw in some scraps through the door." Alonzo suggested bluntly. "I know you don't believe in the death penalty, but there's has be _some_ repercussions!"

"And there _will_ be repercussions!" Exclaimed Munkustrap. "For now, keep him locked up and make sure everyone's on border patrol." He barked, more worried than he was agitated by the black-and-white tom. Alonzo knew how he got when he was upset; it did not bother him.

—

Rum Tum Tugger was _furious_. "You barely escape with your life and _that's_ how you're going to retaliate?"

"Tugger, it's _his_ decision." Snapped Demeter, although she _too_ was not happy with the outcome.

"It's the _wrong_ decision!"

"Enough." Munkustrap's words cut right through his brother and silenced him. "If I keep him here, others might come looking and that won't be good for the tribe. If I _kill_ him, they'll want payback." Munkustrap saw in his brother's (livid) eyes that he accepted that those theories made some sense. "Letting him go might say something to them." But then all possibility of understanding disappeared. Tugger's paws were shaking with rage. Demeter herself had a perturbed disposition. She would neither agree nor disagree... _out loud_. She had her opinions, and very few got to hear them. Right now, there was no need to fuel the fire, she was thinking. "All I know is I don't want him here with everyone breathing down my neck to murder him. I also _don't_ want him here when the kittens are born."

Incensed, Demeter raised her head. "It won't make a difference whether he's here or not. Or even _alive or dead!_ " She proclaimed. Disgruntled, Munkustrap dragged his paw down his face. "The tribe will go along with whatever decision you make... but it has to be the _right_ decision!"

"I don't know what the 'right' decision is!" He shouted.

"Right for _you_ then, how about that?" Replied she. Munkustrap's eyes were weary and worried. He looked up to see if his brother had any insight, but he had his head turned away with his arms folded. "Damn it..." Demeter sighed. Munkustrap thought hard about it; his mind was nowhere near the proper state it should for this situation. He was tired, and most of all, he was afraid.

He tried to take into account _every_ detail he could about the situation—the motive, the tom _commanding_ the motive, whether he had enough support to _keep_ anyone else out of the junkyard... the best thing he could do was do his best to keep the Copperkits _out_. Had they gone back to Hammersmith already? No. They had to be somewhere waiting to hear back from their little worker. He would find them. Negotiate. More importantly, he had to do this alone.

"We'll keep him in custody until I've dealt with Raithen."

Without a single word, Tugger flounced off. Neither mate tried to call him back. "You know he's not wrong to be upset." Demeter said, despondent. Munkustrap looked at her as if he'd been defied. "Don't give me that look! I'm not exactly crazy about having some creep in our tribe! No less _you_ leaving me here when our babies could be born any minute!"

Munkustrap knelt down in front of her. "I'm not leaving you anywhere!" He had to keep her calm, he thought. Stress could harm them; it could make the delivery _that_ much more painful. Gentle and reassuring, he reminded himself.

Demeter, however, knit her eyebrows together in an angry V-shape. "That either means you'll stay until Raithen comes here, or I go with you to see him."

"No! I don't want him anywhere near you!" He commanded.

Her gaze softened. "I _love_ you," she replied, "and I'll trust any choice you make. But we have to be in this _together!_ "

He grasped her paw. "We are!" He promised, looking into her eyes. "Always." He pressed a deep kiss into her lips. "If something happened to you or our babies, I don't know what I'd do... that's why I need to play this as safe as possible."

"I know." Demeter affirmed. "But I don't intend to lie around watching the clouds while something's threatening my husband and his people! When you're named leader, they'll be _my_ subjects as well! It's just as much my duty to protect them as it is yours."

Though admirant of her resolve, Munkustrap had overwhelming doubts and worries of their plight. She was in no condition to defend herself should she need to move quickly or physically fight back. She was in more danger than ever, yet her will was the strongest it had been in a long time. "Right now, I want your duty to be staying warm and being ready when those kittens come... I need you where I _know_ you're being looked after." He rationalized quite clearly, though his nervous voice betrayed his words. As if he had to prove his point further, he glided his fingers over her full womb; it was right then that he felt her flesh respond to him. The kick of one of his kittens. Were they reaching for him? Surely not, but part of him felt that they knew whose paw was trailing over their blanket of safety. "I won't let anyone hurt you." He pronounced. "Never again."

"You never have before." She said quietly.

* * *

 **Mungojerrie**

Still under the poppy milk's spell, Mungojerrie's rest was riddled with strange dreams. A snow-covered pasture. An alder tree with black bark. The well _beneath_ the tree. No one there. Not a sound. What had once been a comfortable place was now abandoned and haunting... _and haunted_. He bent over and looked into the well; the stagnant water was a bluish-black, and he could see not just his broken reflection, but hear the sound of his own breathing amplify against the walls. Something began to obscure part of the picture; he could no longer see his eyes. Soon his own image vanished completely.

Something was reaching out of the well; a paw. A skinny, hairless paw dripping wet and ice to the touch, seized his wrist. He wanted to shriek, but no noise came from his throat. He wanted to run away, but his body was held fast to the rim of the ledge. It pulled him so that he was staring down into the unfathomable depths.

 _"I tell you, I will throw you down into the well if you disobey me again. I tell you little rascal, your sister will be our pet until her last breath after you die. Oh, how she'll scream—"_

Mungojerrie woke with a start, breathing hard. His head hurt; his throat was dry. He took a quick, fearful look for where he was and thankfully saw that he was in his familiar abode with Rumpleteazer patting her pillow next to him. She didn't see that he was awake. "Sister." He rasped, startling her. "W– Water." His speech was barely decipherable, but she had been prepared to tend to his needs. Hurriedly, she pushed over a water dish and helped him lean over to drink. She held his head up as she nurtured him like a mother did her young. For Rumpleteazer, Mungojerrie _was_ her young – her younger, identical version of herself, and whatever he needed, she needed as well. She needed him to stay strong, to remain healthy and mobile so that she too could carry on.

"You were moaning." She told him as she lied him back down. "Does it hurt that bad?"

"No. I had a bad dream." He said more clearly. "It's probably the milk's fault." He began to push himself upright and Rumpleteazer grabbed his shoulder to give him support.

"What happened in it?"

"Nothing interesting." To her surprise, he seamlessly sat up from a supine position without struggle. He reached over his shoulder for the bandage. "How bad's the scar?"

"Nothing no one's ever seen. Your fur will cover it right up... Jerrie, _why_ did you have to jump in the way like that?"

"Because of what I said earlier: he's one of our own." He plainly answered. "Don't say that I was in the wrong; we _both_ care about Munkustrap!" He scolded.

"I do! But _he's_ not my little brother." She said.

"All right, but would you rather have _him_ lead us or some bloody lout from God knows where take us over?" He grunted, trying to stretch his legs; he hadn't taken a single step all day. "Do you know what happened with the tom?"

"Not yet. I haven't left this spot all day."

Mungojerrie snickered. "Of course you haven't." He paused. "I _know_ it was the Copperkits. It's no coincidence that they arrived last month and now _this_ happens!"

"Of course it isn't." She scoffed. "Any _fool_ could see that."

"Munkustrap ought to put that bastard in his place. Imagine if anyone thought it was _us_ that set this up." The Bengal snorted.

"Oh please. If I were going to hire an assassin, I'd like to think I'd plan it so that he wasn't gawking like an idiot right in front of everybody when he's finished." She rolled her eyes. "As fun playing dumb is, I like them to think I have _some_ competence." She took a look at the bandage that had been on him for hours. Perhaps it was better to change it now.

As she did, Mungojerrie spoke. "I'd like to show the bugger I'm still alive and see the look on his face." He snorted. "Imagine if _Rai_ _then_ saw us! What would _he_ think?"

"He'd think _perfect_. They're off committing crimes _elsewhere without_ pay. He'd say it suits us."

He laughed again, but with more scorn than before. "Still... it's better." He said, and Rumpleteazer couldn't agree more.


	13. Bargain

**Mr. Mistoffelees**

Following the recognizable scent of his surrogate brother, Mistoffelees trotted through the lot until he found the Maine Coon in a frenzy. Instead of approaching, the tuxedo teen slowed his steps and watched Rum Tum Tugger ragingly rake his nails down an old plank. Mistoffelees pondered whether he should even let him know he was there or not. With his ears low, he took refuge behind a truck tire and lightly said, "...Tugger?"

 _"What?"_ He shouted, turning around as quick as a flash. Mistoffelees' fawn eyes went slit with fear.

"...Whatcha doin'?" He asked with a quake of concern.

"What does it look like?"

"You're..." He looked at the bleeding, injured wood, "...aggressively filing your claws?" Tugger sighed and brushed the dust off of his coat. "I heard about what your brother said. What's the big deal if he keeps him alive?" He said. Tugger sat down on the tire.

"He's putting us in danger."

"How? He's locked up and under watch." Mistoffelees said with aplomb. "Your brother wouldn't do anything that would put us all in jeopardy. _You_ should know that better than anyone!" Tugger looked at him, dismissive... but then he seemed to relax his tense shoulders and turned back away. Mistoffelees hopped onto the rubber and stepped closer. "You took care of Macavity; anyone with a functioning brain knows not to mess with the tribe now." He'd meant it cheerfully, but he began to realize that his words might not have been as reassuring as he'd meant it.

Tugger answered, "Even if they _know_ , that won't actually stop them." He snorted. "I did a lot of things I know I _shouldn't_ have been."

"Hey!" Mistoffelees beamed. "With _your_ claws and _my_ magic, no invader stands a chance. We'll be like the dynamic duo!" He energetically held his paw up for a fist-bump. "Wuddya say?" He smiled brightly, but Tugger purposefully left him hanging. The black-and-white kitten recognized this and he crossed his arms. "Fine. Be that way." Tugger then chuckled, which in return lightened up the conjuring cat.

Out of nowhere, the casanova tom seemed to perk up. "So... Victoria looked rather _impressed_ last night." He smirked, making Mistoffelees blush. "My main man gettin' _all_ the ladies!" He said to lovingly embarrass him. "I've taught you well." Mistoffelees nervously scratched his ear and his tail coiled up nervously. "I'm just messing with you, kid. But _really_ , you were great."

Mistoffelees didn't respond, instead fiddling with his paws. He'd wanted to mention something to Tugger about what happened backstage shortly after his performance. "Well, um... I hung out with Victoria for a little bit after. I mean, we hang out a lot anyway, but this time it was just the two of us..." He went red all over, as if he blushed with his entire body. "And uh— we— well, _she_ — actually, um..." He couldn't get the sentence fully out. He'd been smiling idiotically about it all morning even with the events of the interrupted coronation. Yes, they might've danced in midair together, but what occurred after made him feel like he was perpetually floating on a cloud above the atmosphere, never coming down.

Rum Tum Tugger knew what he was alluding to; he'd felt the exact same way. Though, unlike himself, Mistoffelees' love was pure and innocent, not overtly erotic as early as Tugger's romantic life had been. Mistoffelees wondered if it was normal to be this enlivened from something so simple as a kiss. A long, innocuous kiss to remember; one of both young yearning and wonder and terror. Promises that would be made and all sorts of feelings to explore... at least he wondered. Everything seemed to be glowing since that moment.

"My main man!" He smiled, "That's what I'm talkin' about!" He wrung his arm around his shoulders and ruffled his head. "I told you that you had nothing to worry about!"

Mistoffelees sheepishly grinned, "How do I make sure she's happy?"

"Just go with what feels right... listen to her." Even Mistoffelees knew that sounded weird coming from Rum Tum Tugger. He winced an eye at him. "Hey, I don't get as many queens as I do by ignoring them." He pursed his lip into a cocky smirk.

"I don't _want_ to get with a lot of queens... just Victoria." He said heavenly. "If I could guarantee that it'll be just her forever, I'd do anything." Tugger had to admire his devotion, even if the idea of single-target romance was silly to him. Mistoffelees, meanwhile, was still feeling a little high just from the taste of her lips upon his. He had no clue the real world of sex and passion. His whole life, he'd had no one to talk about these things with, nor to share these feelings for. The excitement of being next to Victoria and holding her paw was indescribable. She listened to him when he talked about music and magic, and he did her of her many inquiries of the world, and together they went for hours talking theories, history, strange things they wondered... how on earth had either gone so long without the other.

As joyful as he was to have her, Victoria herself felt like the heaviside layer had sent him to give her a companion that understood her odd, complex mind.

...But one thing about Victoria, the _only_ thing she could possibly have wrong about her, was that she trusted H-U-M-A-N-S. He didn't tell her about the bad place, nor his dreams, nor the M-U-Z-Z-L-E. He didn't want anything to ruin their peaceful moments together by discussing it. Only Tugger could understand, because he kept things to himself as well; things Mistoffelees could sense more easily than others. He didn't know why, but he could. He didn't always take cues, but he knew when there was something more than what the eye was seeing – any good magician should!

He knew easily that there was something deeper going on in the Maine Coon's head concerning the assassin. Of course he was unsettled; that was his older brother! The affection Mistoffelees felt for Tugger couldn't be that much different for what he felt for Munkustrap. He'd want justice just as easily... though not as inclined to throw a tantrum if no one else agreed with what _he_ thought about it.

"If I was better at making objects disappear, I'd make that cat in his C-A-G-E vanish under a blanket!" He dramatically mimicked the action, "Prestooo!"

"Yeah... but I don't think it'd be that easy, buddy."

"Not yet it isn't! Once I master telekinesis and mind-reading, it should be easier to keep creeps out of our home!" For once, though he didn't say it, Tugger seemed to actually _hope_ that the kitten's crazy ambitions would be fulfilled. If he'd managed to defy the very laws of _physics_ , then anything goes, he'd say. Mistoffelees was only eager to delve into these new areas of illusion, _much_ more than he was to think about the safety of the tribe and what may need to be done back at home.

* * *

 **Demeter**

The calico queen was awakened by a shooting pain in her stomach. It had been so startling that she jolted from her sleep and instinctively clutched her belly. She couldn't even move to a more comfortable position, her muscles wrung up so tightly. Were these contractions? No... the pain wasn't strong enough to be _that_. The kittens needed at least one more week; it couldn't be happening _yet_... No. The pain quickly passed and she took a deep breath out.

She was lying on her side with Munkustrap's arm around her; his cheek pressed onto hers. Not even her slight twitches made him stir. That was fine—he needed to sleep. She felt his body rise and fall with each soft breath he took. She wondered if he was dreaming or not. She hoped for his sake that he wasn't, but that if he were, it was a peaceful dream... perhaps about family, his own kittenhood, or something simple and forgettable. Lately she'd been remembering her humans in her dreams—the girl would find that she was pregnant and hurry her to her room to help birth them, but she fretted over Munkustrap. He had to be there, otherwise the labor would be _that_ much more painful. No matter how much love and care surrounded her, her mate needed to be at her side, watching their creations enter the world.

She gingerly rubbed her paw over his, cautious as not to alert him.

In an odd twist, it was Munkustrap who sang to _her_ that night as they went to sleep. He traced his fingers up and down her arm while he hymned, looking into her eyes.

 _Look at the stars_  
 _Look how they shine for you_  
 _And everything you do_  
 _And they were all yellow_

Demeter hadn't wanted to let her weariness get the best of her; she loved his voice. She wanted to stay awake until he finished his sweet lullaby to her, and perhaps their babies as well.

 _Your skin_  
 _Oh yeah, your skin and bones_  
 _Turn into something beautiful_  
 _You know, you know I love you so_  
 _You know I love you so_

With each 'I love you,' he'd stop to kiss her. Forehead, neck, shoulder... he rubbed his face against her collarbones and chest, purring louder than he had in a while. He gripped her tightly, unable to admit it, but growing more and more desperate to touch her again, to rouse her. He wanted to wait... but his own desires were becoming difficult to ignore. Now that he'd finally had it, he wanted to explore more of it. Demeter understood; she'd felt the same way after her first time – that and she had the excuse of being a pubescent teenager. Of course, just holding her was enough to sate him during their abstinence... and nowhere else did she feel safer than in his arms.

She began to recall the last time they'd made love, the night in which their litter had been conceived, and her cheeks warmed. She recalled sitting over him, letting him gaze upon her with his sharp, observant eyes. She stroked his face with her index finger. She rubbed her paws from his chest down to his hips; he'd let out a few passionate, aroused breaths as she possessed him with her touch. She picked up his paw and held it to her face, letting him nuzzle her with his fingers. Their cheeks were hot and their fevers rose. Not a single word had to be said to make each other's intentions understood.

Munkustrap had still been hesitant to initiate—it felt wrong to bed her without her wanting, though he could never realize _when_ she wanted to or not. Tonight, she made it obvious. He breathed in and closed his eyes as she let him inside of her, sighs and inexorable moans absconded his lungs as she rode his pelvis. He would sometimes say her name, either in a whisper or a sudden yelp, as he plucked upon her flower until his seeds were planted inside of her. Demeter had managed to earn a satisfied shrill once or twice, and he himself was no sore performer either. What he lacked in experience, he made up for with tenderness and affection. Macavity had offered her neither of those things when he bedded her, not even while he pretended to feel so was she as content as she was now.

A few nights later, when they were nuzzling and kissing, she told him, "I want to have your kittens." She smiled. "I want us to have a family."

"We will." He said, "If we have a little queen as beautiful as you, how am I supposed to keep the toms away from her?"

"And if we have a boy, I'll teach him how to be a prince and keep them away from their uncle." She simpered. "They'll be perfect..." She whispered as she surrendered to sleep.

Munkustrap murmured softly and shifted his body in Demeter's opposite direction, casting her out of her thoughts. Without turning around, she felt him twitch with a jarring intake of breath. A nightmare? She turned over and said in a hushed voice, _"Munkustrap?"_ He gave no response and fell still, and she realized that she was gladly mistaken. Lying beside him, she rested her head on his chest and rode the steady waves of his rhythmic breathing. _Thump-thump-thump-thump_ his heart went; so hypnotizing that she could close her eyes and let sleep take her without worry.

—

She was awakened by the sound of dim purring in her ear. "Good morning." Said a familiar voice. Without opening her eyes, her cheeks swelled in a grin. She felt arms fold around her and kisses press against her shoulder. She rolled over and looked into a comforting pair of blue eyes. "Did you sleep well?" Munkustrap asked, just as he did every morning. He made a conscious effort to remember to ask each day, something she found endearing and sometimes unsettling at how well he could follow a routine as simple as asking how someone's night was.

"Mhm." She pecked a kiss on his nose. "You seem happy this morning."

"Is that so unusual?"

She shrugged. "No. Just pointing it out." He reached for her belly and nuzzled their kittens. "It won't be much longer." She cheerfully said. Munkustrap's smile faded, and Demeter's along with it. "What?"

"I have to deal with the prisoner today." Demeter replied with a disapproving gest and Munkustrap answered with equal irritation. "I promise it's all going to be okay. I know what I'm going to do now."

"What _are_ you going to do?" He sat her up and held her upper arms.

Munkustrap let out a puff of breath before he answered her; she knew that meant she wasn't going to like it. "I'm going to talk to Raithen and negotiate a deal. I'll let his tom go if he swears to leave and never come back."

"And you think he'll agree to that?" She asked incredulously. "I don't want you going alone. It'll be you against _how_ many of them?"

"I won't be going alone!" He said, bringing _some_ relief to her eyes. "I'm bringing Alonzo, Plato, and Coricopat with me. That way we should be an even match... I'm hoping."

"Don't let them intimidate you. Remember, this is _your_ home." She proclaimed. "Macavity could not claim it, and neither will they." Her speech had been meant to motivate him, but the utterance of the fiendish feline's name only made him shudder and swallow. He still could not bear to speak of him, not yet. What he was dealing with could either be easier or _worse_ than him; the tabby didn't know. "When are you going?"

"As soon as possible. I need to get this over with."

"Be safe, my love." She bid as though he intended to leave that very moment. It was probably better if he _did_. She was astonished by how quickly the sheltered feline had become so accustomed to wandering the streets without her guidance.

Munkustrap had even told her that as a kitten, he used to suffer nightmares about getting lost in the city. His father had told him it was easy to remember his way home, but in his dreams the streets were immense, an endless maze with buildings that seemed to shift and change behind him. He would find himself wandering down gloomy roads, descending endless circular pathways, darting through parking lots or over bridges, his shouts echoing unanswered. Just a month or two ago, he'd had a very similar dream, he'd said, which had reminded him of his kittenhood anxieties. He heard his father's voice, but from a long way off, and no matter how hard he ran after it, it would grow fainter and fainter, until it faded to nothing and he was alone in the dark.

It seemed his bad dreams all had a similar pattern, Demeter had noted, ranging from his father being unable to be found or tended to, to something unseen invading the tribe and being left helpless to try and defend it. _Please_ , he said for so many nights in that several-month period, _please make them go away._ He'd been knocked back into a frightened kitten wanting the embrace of a mother that was not there.

In the immediate passing days of Old Deuteronomy's funeral that they spent outside of the tribe he would not eat; sleep would come for him whether he wanted it or not, but Munkustrap nonetheless wanted to do nothing but weep. Otherwise he was nestled in Demeter's arms shivering with grief.

Grief. That's all it was. It would soon be over, she kept thinking on the darkest days. A terrible weight on his shoulders that he could not bear along with everything else. She promised him that it would soon be nothing but a horrible memory... but it already was and would be for eternity.

* * *

 **Mungojerrie**

Mungojerrie was already back on his feet the second morning following the attack. He still wore a bandage and he couldn't freely move his neck without any discomfort, but it was better than being bedridden for God knows how long. For some reason it was his head that hurt most, but it could've been something about the whiplash effect from how hard he fell onto Munkustrap. He didn't let himself think about it—he dived right onto him, leading to an almost equally-painful headbutt right as he was slashed from behind.

It was much colder than it was on that night; whatever was happening 'up north' as their humans would say had come down south into the city. He was eating some cooked ham with his sister; an old favorite of theirs. They became more accustomed to eating cooked food rather than raw—their early diet consisted of stealing from people's windowsills or leftovers their humans left lying out... it was all they were given since they were expected to just somehow _never_ be hungry and leave around 'unsightly, large bags of cat nibble in their stainless home.'

He kept itching his bandage and Rumpleteazer would smacked his paw with her tail.

"Ow!"

"Stop that. You'll peel it off."

"My collar will hide it."

"But it could get infected. Leave it alone."

"Yes, _Mum_." He said mockingly.

Nearby, Skimbleshanks was carrying some of his findings back from the train station; abandoned luggage full of clothes and blankets that would keep them all warm during winter. He happened to catch some of their banter.

"Honestly. I hope the situation gets dealt with properly."

"Oh yeah... did you ever hear what Munkustrap was planning to do?"

"No. Nobody ever tells us anything. Remember? It shouldn't be a riddle as to _why_ we have to sneak around to get any insight."

"But you'd think something as big as _this_ would be news to us."

"Oh!" Came a thick Scottish accent, "I know! He and his crew just left to go after Raithen."

Rumpleteazer's ears pricked up with surprise. "What?"

"You mean _go after_ him like... _kill him?_ " Even Mungojerrie hadn't thought Munkustrap had such guts. He'd gone after Macavity, but not to kill him; just to save his father!

"I'm not sure. Coricopat said it was to take care of business before letting our hostage go. I think they're going to try some sort of bargain."

 _Bargain with a Copperkit?_ That wasn't happening. The Bengals knew this from experience. They didn't bargain—no, they acted. They acted without second-guessing towards what was better for 'business' and not necessarily _ethical_. The twins weren't sticklers for 'ethics,' but they at least liked for both sides to know what their options were. Now Munkustrap was out there ready to try his hand at _negotiating_ with a deranged bunch? He was just as foolish as _them!_

...But that was _his_ choice, thought Mungojerrie. He would have to learn the hard way.

After all, didn't _he_?


	14. Mercy

**Munkustrap**

Pacing a few steps ahead of his hunting party, Munkustrap felt confident that he'd tracked down the hairless tom. With his nose pressed against the ground, inhaling deeply, he caught his scent and gave chase. "Munkustrap! Wait!" The Egyptian Mau stopped and turned around. He'd inadvertently left behind his small pack; he forgot how much naturally quicker he was than them. On his way to see him, his limbs shook and shivered. Some of it was anger, some of it was dread. _Some_ of it was also his body's natural reaction to the freezing air.

Taking a few breaths to still his agitated heart, Munkustrap turned to give his toms a reassuring glance. "They're nearby." He said.

 _"They?"_ Said Coricopat. "I thought we were going to see Raithen."

"Raithen might still have his group with him."

"How many are we talking?" Asked Plato.

"Only three or four cats."

"Three or four _homicidal_ cats." Coricopat interjected. Alonzo hushed him at once.

"I hope you're planning to give them Hell for what they put you through." Plato growled.

Munkustrap huffed. "I'll give them _something._ I just want them to know they're _not_ welcome here."

"You plan to do that with your claws and teeth."

"No." Munkustrap demanded, turning around. "No threats. No violence. All it'll do is give them _twice_ the incentive to attack."

" _We_ have incentive to attack!" Plato argued.

"Enough." Alonzo chided. "Listen to who's in charge here."

"I _am._ "

" _Both_ of you, hush." Munkustrap didn't need this; not _before_ they even found the threat. They needed to work together, _Lord_ knows they needed to if anything was going to be accomplished. They were all as unsettled as their leader before them; none of them knew what to expect. Before they could proceed on looking, Munkustrap turned to see that the three Copperkits were scuttling out of a storm drain and came to _them_ instead.

"Munkustrap?" Called the distinctive voice of a Sphynx cat. "I _thought_ that was you!" The bald, nearly one-eyed tom came forward with a partially toothless grin. "The weather's kept us off our trail; I'm not exactly made for traveling in cold air, as you can tell!"

As much as Munkustrap wanted to play coy and remain guarded and astute, he couldn't bear to treat the polite, aging, withered cat with discourtesy... even _if_ he might be responsible for trying to have him murdered. "Where's the third cat following you?" He asked instead.

Raithen responded with a peculiar expression; both of his brows went up, one going slightly higher than the other due to his squint. "Which one...?" He looked back at his silent companions. "Oh. You mean Nebula? Fiend's _always_ been rather defiant. He broke off from our group about a day or two ago. Why do you ask?"

Something told him that he was lying, or at least _half_ -lying. Munkustrap wasn't entirely certain, and he didn't know just _what_ exactly was at risk. He looked back at his group, who all waited on _him_ to speak. Munkustrap cleared his throat and said, "This _Nebula_ of yours... I recognized his scent when he raided my tribe the other night... he tried to have me killed."

Raithen looked absolutely repulsed. _"Killed?"_ Just saying such a word made his voice crackle. "What do you mean?"

Now it was Alonzo that couldn't quite hold his tongue. He sniped, "It means he nearly took down one of our toms!" Munkustrap shot him a look over his shoulder, telling him to shut up. His kittenhood friend should know that glare well.

Raithen, instead of looking horrified, reacted as if he wasn't surprised at all. "Oh good gracious." He sighed as if this were just a minor annoyance. "My most sincere apologies." _That's it?_ Munkustrap thought, appalled. An apology? A half-arsed one at that? "Nebula's always had a bit of an instability when it comes to things not going as planned. He'd thought we were coming asking for a place in the junkyard, but I guess I didn't communicate my intentions to him clearly."

"He said he was given 'instructions to follow.'" Rebuked the tabby, wearing his trademark death glare. "I can't imagine just some _stranger_ would've sent him to kill me shortly after leaving your pack." He'd caught him in a lie... or did he _intend_ for him to catch him in a lie? He had no idea. He hadn't even meant to come off as threatening as he sounded. Munkustrap hated being lied to is all... _especially_ to his face. It demeaned his own intelligence. "He also said something about my father not being able to raise me proper." As he spoke, his tone grew icier, he felt his claws unsheathing from his paws. It was the disrespect of Old Deuteronomy that called upon his inner lion. His need to defend his honor. "Tell me. Did you or _didn't_ you come out here to have me murdered in front of my own tribe?"

Plato tip-toed closer to Munkustrap and whispered in his ear; careful to not let Raithen hear him or read his lips. "You already know the answer. What are you waiting for?" Munkustrap inched him off with his shoulder. He knew what he was doing, they just had to trust him.

The Sphynx coolly dodged the question and asked, with some curiosity, "Is Nebula still alive?"

"You didn't answer me."

Raithen reacted as if he was offended. "All I ask is to know if one of my own colleagues is well! Please tell me you didn't hurt him too much."

"He's fine. Now tell me the truth!" Commanded Munkustrap, becoming more infuriated by the second. He did not need claws—his piercing stare could do the damage for him.

The bald tom turned to his cohorts and nodded his head, sending both of them back down the drain. "I _did_ give him instructions that night. I told him if he was going _back_ to your vicinity to ask to stay, that he should do so properly." Purposefully vague, of course. But Munkustrap still wasn't entirely sure what to make of it. It made no sense to him (of course) but even if he pointed it out, Raithen surely wouldn't give him a concise answer... and the silver tom _needed_ clear and pronounced. Not discreet implications. He wasn't so dumb as to miss the inconsistencies in his words, but didn't know what do with what was thrown at him. It felt like when Macavity had said he wanted him to _realize_ something before he told him why he took Old Deuteronomy... something was there, but he didn't know what. _Wait..._

"You knew of Macavity." Said Munkustrap, seeming to change topics. "Did he ever try to invade your tribe or use any of your cats as workers?" The three Jellicles behind him were put off by the enquiry; they hadn't expected to hear _that_ name on this cold, foggy morning.

Raithen sneered and said, "My only encounters with the lad involved chasing him out of my neighborhood when he was pursuing one of our queens, _and_ when we were suffering a shortage of food because he'd drafted all of the local rats to work for him. A decent negotiator, I might say. Though his tactics weren't exactly... _agreeable_."

"Did he say anything about me or my father?"

Raithen sighed. "How do I put this? I knew of your father _before_ Macavity was ever even thought of! But I get where you're going with this. No. None of this has to do with Macavity. I don't _care_ about the shit-eating thief that tortured toms and preyed on humans. I don't _care_ that your brother ripped his throat right out of his skin, the bloke deserved it. _No._ I only concern myself with present matters, if you will, and that's about our very desperate tribe."

Munkustrap's expression broke for a soft moment. "Desperate?" Alonzo, Coricopat, and Plato were getting weary of this aimless chatter. They'd come expecting a fight, and they _still_ felt one sneaking up on them... they just didn't know _when._

"We're a dying race, going extinct, if you will. We only have about twelve Copperkits left... none of which are capable of reproducing anytime soon. That's because we only have males in our tribe. No females, not anymore. So what we came up with was that we would pair ourselves with another tribe, unite us both, for the sake of saving our namesake."

"But that's forbidden. Once you're pledged to a tribe, you can't desert it, not even to join another. That's betrayal." He said, half-quoting his own father. "You can't come live in another tribe's territory... it's not _yours_." He said clearly.

"Not unless the other takes it by force." Raithen calmly added. He paused just to get a good glimpse at the aghast look on Munkustrap's face. It was so much that Alonzo took a step forward, knowing what he meant. "Now, this has been very informative and all, but I think there are more important things you ought to be worried about?"

"Like what?" Munkustrap said skeptically.

He turned on his tail. "Hm... When you dumbly let me know that my tom was alive and with your kind, I sent my men off to fetch him. It'd be a shame if something were to happen to one of _your_ friends... or your lovely, expectant mate while you're away." The words hit him like bullets and Munkustrap, feeling ill, charged right past his own group and sprinted towards the junkyard.

* * *

 **Bombalurina**

The Somali queen had wanted to take a look at the opposer for herself. What had tried to be an assassin was nothing more than an animal locked in his cage. She wanted to poke her head right through the metal bars and spit on him. Whoever dared to threaten the Jellicles was doomed the moment they even _thought_ of it. Already every older Jellicle walked by and snapped their jaws at him; they were anxious for Munkustrap to return home and give the orders... everyone was conversing about the tribe's 'first trial.' First one Bombalurina herself was alive for, at least. Not even Munkustrap and Rum Tum Tugger were born the last time Old Deuteronomy held someone accountable for a crime against them.

She hadn't all the details, but from what she was told, this wasn't the _first_ assassination attempt on a Jellicle leader... only that time, it had come from one of Old Deuteronomy's own subjects. To have someone attempt murder on you... then to find out it was someone you trusted and cared for, and a tom as noble and good-hearted as the Norwegian Forest had been... it must've been excruciating. Old Deuteronomy exiled the culprit... which had to have been _more_ difficult than having him executed. No Jellicle had commanded an execution, and Old Deuteronomy wasn't about to be the first. It took strength to spare a life as much as it did to take one, he had said.

Bombalurina didn't personally have an opinion. While she wanted justice, she didn't wish death on _anyone_. Macavity was probably her _first_ exception... by the time she'd even thought about it, her future leader and his brother were carrying back their father's dead body... dead by _his_ claws. The deed had been done and it saved her the effort of feeling any sort of confliction. It seemed the tribe was more content knowing he was gone, and it indeed gave them one _less_ variable to worry about every day of their lives. But now new worries were to come; it was there in their own abode. But he imposed no threat, no more than a rat carrying a disease that they could stomp on and be done with.

She peered around the carrier where he couldn't spot her only to see that, _just_ out of sight, many of the older cats had their eyes on it already. Skimbleshanks, Asparagus, even Jennyanydots were keeping watch as if there was any possibility of him escaping. Bombalurina wondered where the kittens were and scented them out instead. She found them with Jellylorum, and with Jellylorum was Demeter; she looked rather pained, like she was having stomach cramp—

 _...Could it be?_

No. Labor pains were _much_ more severe for a queen to take with such poise... must just be regular pregnancy pains... then again, what did Bombalurina care? The calico had plenty of help surrounding her; it's not like she'd be on her own. Of course, because Demeter did _everything_ with so much grace, she'd even give birth calmly and pleasantly. She was sure that's what everyone else in the tribe was thinking. She watched as the tortie Jemima put a paw on Demeter's belly; she looked saddened. "Is your tummy hurting? Does that mean they're gonna come out?"

Demeter through her rugged breathing, managed to say, "No, sweetheart. It's just a pain. It's not time yet." Jellylorum felt the calico's face. "What?"

"You feel really hot. You sure nothing's happening yet?"

"Of course not!" She replied, more apprehensive. "It's just the breathing." She tried to slow herself. "I'll be all right. Munkustrap will be home soon." And during this, Bombalurina was wondering where Rum Tum Tugger had gone. He was not with his sister-in-law, nor did he go with his brother. If he wasn't keeping watch on the captive, then surely he had to be _somewhere_. The kittens could sense distress much more abundantly than grown cats could, it appeared. The four females piled around Demeter and gave her nuzzles to try and soothe her. Etcetera gave her kisses.

"Do you need water, love?" Asked Jellylorum.

"No." She insisted; she started to get up. "If I move around, it should stop." Though it was difficult, she managed to push herself up onto her feet; already it felt as though there was less weight on her, but also heavier... the weight had gone lower... if she could describe it any other way. It shifted from her stomach, farther down into her pelvis. It seemed like Demeter was able to catch her breath and everyone looked relieved... even Bombalurina felt some solace from that.

She smelled something a bit odd that caught her attention and she looked around to see if any sort of animal had wandered in. Not just one; _two_ beasts seem to have strayed into the wrong territory. She sniffed the air, unable to determine which direction it was coming from. Perhaps the tom had needed to do some business and was forced to do so in the cage... leave it to a Jellicle to make one of their own prisoners stand in their own shit. Not even _they_ were above such a punishment. But no, the scent was distinct, and it was becoming stronger.

Bombalurina felt compelled to follow and the aroma led her to one of the borders, where from a storm drain, she saw two pairs of eyes leering out. Her face wrinkled up into a sneer and she snarled. The cats watching the carrier might have power in numbers, but Bombalurina was young and swift—she had no qualms about facing these outsiders on her own. Slithering out and slinking under a car, they kept their eyes on their surroundings, ignoring Bombalurina completely as if she stood no chance against them. The nerve! How they moved in such perfect sync was almost disturbing—as if they'd had quite a bit of practice.

Keeping her head low, she watched them skulk around the perimeter and out of sight, almost disappearing into thin air! She tried to find them, and during her search, she heard from inside the broken oven filled with blankets and pillows someone panting like a dog. She peered in and saw, lying there, Demeter. She was on her side, her pear-green eyes were watering, she could barely move. Demeter looked up at her and asked, "Is Munkustrap back yet?"

"I don't know." She answered with a grouchy tone. Demeter didn't look offended; she was in too much pain to even _care_ what the Somali thought of her. Bombalurina couldn't peel her eyes away from the struggling queen. Something wasn't right, and she was an idiot not to know. "Something's happening and you know it."

"It can't." She responded, breathless. "Munkustrap has to be here. I can't do this without him."

"Do you want me to go get Jenny?" She asked. Even if Demeter said no, Bombalurina would alert the Gumbie cat anyway. She must really be more clueless than she let on. Demeter thought about it, unable to get a clear sentence out. She nodded. "All right." Said the Somali.

Before she could even turn around, she heard the calico say, "If you see Munkustrap tell him where I am." Bombalurina looked back and nodded. It suddenly burdened her to leaved the restless queen on her own, even _if_ it would be for just a minute or two. Demeter's face was ruddy from the breathing and she started to wheeze. She was going to dehydrate.

Going against her own pride, Bombalurina proclaimed, "I'm going to bring you some water."

* * *

 **Munkustrap**

Springing over the junkyard fence, Munkustrap twisted in all directions, not sure whether to look for his mate or the culprits first. Everything appeared to be normal, though the cats that saw his distressed face as he flung into sight were now concerned. He hurried to his resting spot, but Demeter wasn't there. He looked around for Jennyanydots, Jellylorum, the kittens, _somebody_ she might be with. He managed to find some respite when he could scent Demeter along with two other queens.

He found her with her head resting in Jennyanydots' paw while she fed her water. Her eyes lit up with relief upon seeing him. She reached her arm out to him. "Munkustrap—!" He grasped her paw and scanned her disheveled state; she was exhausted.

"Are you hurt?" Was the first thing he could get out. Demeter winced, even Bombalurina who was sitting nearby looked befuddled.

"What—? Hurt? No." Munkustrap didn't look convinced, and before she could reassure him further, Jennyanydots felt the calico's bump; she was all too familiar with this behavior.

"The kittens are ready to come out."

Munkustrap's eyes bulged. _"What?"_

Demeter shook her head. "No! It's not— It's not time! It's too early!" It took all of her effort just to say _that_ , meanwhile Bombalurina couldn't help but look terrified at the prospect. All Munkustrap could think was not now! Not while they could be in danger! Of all the times this could be happening, it couldn't be now! But that wasn't up to _any_ of them. It was more crucial than ever to keep those fiends away from her; Munkustrap would see to it.

He held her cheek and whispered, "Demeter, I'll be back. I won't go far and I won't be long—"

She shook her head furiously. "No! No, you can't go!" She pleaded.

"I'll be right here. I just need to make sure of something."

Her nails dug into his wrist like a vice grip. "Please! Don't! I can't do this without you!"

Seeing her in physical pain was cruel enough, but her begging for his presence was all the more heartbreaking. But his duty was not just to her, but the tribe as well. He _needed_ to eliminate the threat at once! "I'm not leaving you!" He assured her, and it seemed to work. "I'm going to be right here. Just let me take care of something. I promise it'll be all right!" Demeter didn't want to let him go, but she knew that if he was this desperate to pull away from _her_ at this time, then it _must_ be important. He looked to Jennyanydots, "You'll stay with her?"

"Absolutely."

And then to Bombalurina, "And you?" She looked rather stunned that he was even asking. Haughty as she'd been acting, the queen was in labor for God's sake! She could act like she had standards just this once. "Are you going to help her, Bomba?"

"Yes." She said, trying not to sound aggravated. Munkustrap nuzzled Demeter's face; he wrenched at the thought of leaving her, but he just had to ensure that the Copperkits caused no harm. He would tell them to leave if that's all they wanted; they could take Nebula and never return. He didn't care for a fight over territory or 'property.' If they had any ounce of morality in them, they'd take pity on a tom who was about to watch his kittens be born... a tom they'd tried to murder _knowing_ he had a pregnant wife. He couldn't be so trusting as to believe they'd spare him even _now_.

When he crossed over to the carrier and saw that the two toms were trying to pry open the lock, he hissed to alert them of his presence. Without so much as a growl, the toms silently turned the silver and black Mau. Munkustrap lashed his tail and his teeth were bared, claws deployed, ready for the worst. He'd done a number on Macavity from pure adrenaline alone, but this was different.

He would _not_ let _anyone_ hurt his children!

"Rise!" Nebula called in a mocking tone. "Are you not the kind that has a distaste for violence?" As he spoke, Munkustrap slowly shifted into a less defensive stance, "Why don't we have it your way instead? You unlock this cage and we go on our way. No cuts or bites required." This time, Munkustrap didn't look so willing; he stared, unblinking. Nebula sneered smugly, "Raithen told me that's how your _father_ took care of things." At that, the tabby's heart jolted for a fleeting moment. Upset by the mere mention of his name again, he turned and averted his gaze to the ground, trying to get his thoughts together. "So what's it going to be? You wouldn't want to break poor Old Deuteronomy's heart now, would you?"

His words felt like a cold knife twisting in his chest; he sucked his lip and abated his turmoil. It had to be manipulation—he'd just insulted his beloved father a day ago... there was no way he would change his mind so quickly... but he was still right! He couldn't bear just _thinking_ of going against his father's ways. The _Jellicle's_ ways. Even after what he'd done, Old Deuteronomy would not have wanted _Macavity_ slain! He didn't have any time to contemplate either; Demeter was waiting for him! And the fool he was, he'd left Alonzo and the others so far behind in his hurry that he might've gotten them lost.

Where was his brother when he needed him? Granted, how was _he_ of all cats to predict that any of this could be happening this morning? The Everlasting Cat must be testing him, he thought. But even though he'd failed before... why did he have to torture him for it? Did he not know how much he already suffered?

"Well?" Asked Nebula. "You don't have all day, I can tell!" Unfortunately, he was correct. Munkustrap had no time to make this decision, but something was occuring to him—if he didn't let him go peacefully, they'd open the cage by force. No one needed that, _he_ didn't need that. If Raithen was behind this, he would've come after him the night he let them stay put, after all. No doubt the toms would make sure Nebula returned to their leader. His words had been cold, but perhaps he understood that the Jellicles weren't willing to defy what they'd done for centuries.

"If I open that door, all three of you are to walk back to Hammersmith without stopping. You are _never_ to come back here!" He declared; his paws were shaky—he had to get back to Demeter. She'd looked so scared; not even when Macavity tried to best her did she flinch. She was braver than any other queen he'd met, and so now he would need to be brave for her... and perhaps being brave meant trusting his gut. Anything that would get him back to her more quickly.

"Munkustrap!" He didn't get to take a single step forward when he heard Alonzo's voice call out to him. He and Plato already had their claws ready for attack. "What'd these wankers try on you now?"

"Nothing!" He insisted. "They say they'll go peacefully if we unlock the cage." Not even _Munkustrap_ sounded so sure about his choice.

Plato was outraged. "You can't be serious!"

"I didn't say I would!" He rebuked, turning back to the Copperkits. "How do I know I can trust you?"

The three all exchanged looks, somehow understanding the other without any words. Munkustrap tried to figure out what they were plotting; wishing he had the ability to read minds this very moment. If only Mistoffelees knew how— _he'd_ be useful for such occasions! He had to stop getting distracted. _Pay attention_ , he heard his father command.

"Open this crate and you'll know." Nebula baited. Honestly, there _was_ no way to know, was there?

"Munkustrap," Plato warned, "you're a _fool_ if you unlock that door." Munkustrap wanted to deny him, but he agreed! Why did this have to be _now?_ All he could think of was Demeter, how his father could handle this so seamlessly. It was _his_ job to protect and serve, not stand there conflicted! Someone else called his name, a voice that almost turned his knees to water and he looked to see Demeter. She was breathing heavily, hardly able to keep upright. Bombalurina had already come running after her.

 _How was she here? What was she doing?_

"Demeter! Wha—?"

"I— I couldn't let you do this alone!"

"Demeter!" Bombalurina grabbed her shoulders, furious. "Are you insane? You need to get back to—" Demeter fought her off. Jennyanydots was rushing over. This was all wrong!

"Who's _this?_ " Grinned Nebula. "The Lady of the tribe?" He blew a kiss at her. Livid, Munkustrap stepped back and stretched an arm in front of Demeter, particularly over her bump. "Why don't you talk some sense into your mate and tell him to open this door?"

"Demeter," he hissed through his teeth, "get out of here _right now_." He said more pleadingly than demanding.

"I will _not_."

"Alonzo, get her away from here." Alonzo nodded and took Demeter's arm, but she forced him away. He fought back just as hard with Bombalurina at her other arm.

"Mun—Munkustrap!" She screamed at the top of her lungs, but he couldn't let this happen. What he didn't realize was that she was _warning_ him.

He suddenly knew. The silver tabby span around right into the Copperkit swinging its paw at him, hitting him across the side of his neck. The force sent him right into the ground and Plato jumped between them, his razor claws tearing into the perpetrator's collar. He could hear Demeter fall into a frenzy as she scrambled her weight against Bombalurina and Alonzo. The yowling of the dueling toms crescendoed as Munkustrap pushed himself back up, eyeing Nebula making his escape from the broken lock, almost pitch-black eyes looking right into his.

Demeter had seen enough; fueled with the focused hate of protective marital rage, she slashed her claws against Alonzo and charged forward. Reflex nearly compelled Munkustrap to stop her, yet the futility of it was instantly apparent as she closed the ground between him and the second silent tom with remarkable speed. Munkustrap fought another instinct—to push her out the way. Alonzo struggled to sight on the bouncing target of the tom's body, afraid to make a move. Plato had met a near-even match between himself the Copperkit, who'd fallen submissive and fled. Nebula, what Munkustrap had thought to be the _real_ threat, had escaped.

Dust sprinkled in his eyes and temporarily blinded him; he was left clawing at his face and when his watery vision cleared, he watched the tom toss Demeter aside with a powerful swing. Then Munkustrap heard it before he saw it. All at once she balled her arms around her stomach and landed right on it with a deafening thump and a scream of agony. He moved like a bolt of lightning; right as the tom brought down his paw, Munkustrap launched himself over her and felt the sickening sensation of his claws dredge deep into the skin of his upper arm, all the way into the quick. Alonzo began to tear into the tom's backside without falter, Demeter was convulsing in spasms of torment, and even Bombalurina had a look of horror on her face as she rushed to the calico's side.

Demeter rolled into a ball, desperate to protect the kittens inside of her. She felt a wetness at her crotch that she thought could only be urine... but it was stickier and thicker. She dared to look and instead saw red trailing steadily out. Angels above could hear her pandemonium as she caterwauled in grief and terror at once. At that moment, Munkustrap crunched his teeth into the bone of his opposer's shoulder blade. He and Alonzo's claws raked repeatedly through the flesh of his back and scalp; he sank his teeth into the tom's thigh until he shook him off.

With a yell of pure paternal rage, Munkustrap threw the Copperkit into the ground with such force that he lay stunned—conscious, but unable to resist any farther.

"Go on!" Alonzo shouted, "Finish him!" Munkustrap stared; shaking and hardly able to breathe. He turned around. Plato and Bombalurina picked up Demeter and began hefting her towards Jellylorum.

"Please! Please, no!" She continued shrieking as she bled. As she shouted, it only registered in Munkustrap's mind as a distant echo... this couldn't be real. It must be a nightmare. He wanted it to be over. He would wake up shivering and frantic, but find that Demeter was safely lying beside him, the tribe was unscathed, and their kittens were still resting inside of his mate's womb. Her bawling brought him back to reality and the injured tabby that was at his feet. Demeter's cries grew fainter and fainter, and Alonzo's shouts became louder.

"Come on! Kill the beast!" His voice cracked like a whip.

Why? Why must he _kill?_ It shouldn't have to be like this. But there was no use in showing mercy at this rate—the tom had tried to see him dead, and now his kittens... his babies... his poor, precious babies... The silver tom knelt down before the bleeding body and picked up his chin, his claws were deployed and pressed deep into his skin...

...and suddenly, the Copperkit spoke.

"No!" He made a scared, whimpery sound as he looked up at him. "Please. Don't hurt me. I won't tell Raithen, I swear!" He begged, nearly blinded by his tears.

"So now he's a coward?" Alonzo said. "Show him what Jellicles do to cats like him!"

And Munkustrap would. In his eyes, with nothing but loathing in them, the vilest contempt, he took a deep breath in. He whirled and heaved his claws right at him, putting his whole body into the slash. The next time the tom opened his eyes, he saw Munkustrap had not struck _him_ , but the ground underneath him. Nothing but four, three-inch deep slices into the earth that could've just as easily been his head. He breathed. "Go." Munkustrap spat. "Tell your leader to _stay_ out of _my_ territory."

With a look of confused gratitude, the tom, barely able to stand, squeezed under the gates and clumsily sauntered off in whatever direction he could carry himself in. Alonzo stood there, speechless. Munkustrap was down on his paws and knees, unable to stand. His shoulders arched up as he ventilated in harsh, heavy breaths, kneeling over as though he were ill. The Turkish Angora might not agree with what he just did, but it was not his place. In a tender voice, he started to say, "Munkustrap, what do—"

"Find Tugger." Was all that he said in a meek voice.

"I don't know if we should leave—"

His head snapped up and with tears in his bloodshot eyes, he shouted, "Find Tugger! Go get my brother! Tell him I need him!" Falling into a weak sob, he bowed his head low again, claws clenching the earth beneath him. He heard Alonzo scamper away as fast as he could.

 _My babies... Please, Merciful Everlasting, please save them..._


	15. Rejoice

**Part 2: A Proper Heir**

* * *

 **Rum Tum Tugger**

"I found him!" Alonzo told Munkustrap as he peered his head into the tabby's usual resting area; he'd been curled into a ball for what felt like decades. His head didn't even rise when he heard them. Rum Tum Tugger had still been asleep; it was not even noon when Alonzo shook him awake and ordered him to follow at once. He wouldn't tell him what was happening—too much was on his mind and it only made the Maine Coon uneasy. "Shall I leave you two be?" At that, Munkustrap started to sit up.

"Let us talk." He said. Alonzo nodded and gave the two privacy. Would someone _please_ just tell him what went on?

"Bro, what the hell's..." He stepped closer and saw the bites and cuts on his skin. "Holy shit, what happened?" He knelt down to examine them, checking to see if they needed cleaning. "Did that arsehole get out?"

"Two of them came for Nebula and they released him." He spoke lowly. His eyes were weary from crying.

"Nebula? Is _that_ the fucker's name?"

"One of them."

Tugger seethed, incredulous. "I'll rip his bloody eyes out, I swear it!" Suddenly Munkustrap's pale eyes were on him; he could _see_ the heartache and it made him shiver.

"...Demeter went into labor."

A chill ran down his spine, "What—?"

"She... she tried to keep one of them off of me and he shoved her down." His lips quivered and his eyes watered; his tears were not finished. At once, the shaking tom took the Maine Coon in his arms and began sobbing, "My babies..."

Tugger could barely understand him, "What?"

"My babies!" He wept, hiding his face into his shoulder. "They hurt them... It's all my fault...!" He couldn't breathe.

Tugger held Munkustrap tightly; despite he was his older brother, and always had been, he felt so tiny in his arms. Always his blanket of protection when they were kittens, but now here he was in bits and pieces. His own paws seemed to shake. Why had Alonzo said nothing? "They could be all right!" He quickly said. Munkustrap let out a wail, muffled by his brother's fur; he'd been holding it back since he saw his mate on the ground bleeding from her rose. "Did Demeter deliver?" He asked.

"They wouldn't let me see!"

 _Christ._ How could they torture him like this? Even if it _was_ because it was an emergency delivery, he had every right to ensure his wife and kittens were safe. It infuriated him more than it saddened him.

"I could've done something. I said I'd protect her and I didn't!"

"Bro." Tugger whispered, trying his hardest to stay calm. "It's not your fault." Munkustrap sniffled, and Tugger thought more of his nieces and nephews, how precious their lives had been to him and they weren't even born! What if they were _never_ born now...? He shut his eyes, fighting the tears away. "You didn't do this. There was nothing you could've done." He'd heard those words somewhere before, thought Tugger... it was what he heard almost every cat in the tribe say to Munkustrap regarding their father. First his parent, now his children... why was whatever 'Everlasting' being that was up there so hateful? Munkustrap had done nothing but remain faithful to everyone's wishes and needs his entire life.

No good deed goes unpunished, he'd once heard. But _why_ _?_

"I want to see my kittens!" His voice rang, "I want to _hold_ my kittens!"

"You will." Tugger insisted, trying to reassure both his brother _and_ himself. "You will, I promise." He couldn't remember how long it had been since he'd held his brother for such an amount of time; it had most definitely been years.

"It's all my fault... It's all my fault... It's all..." He kept repeating as if they were the only words he knew. Tugger shushed into his fur and rocked him a little; the instinct to do so somehow coming naturally. Munkustrap couldn't be sure that the kittens were harmed. He was just shaken! That was all... a big fight, he saw his pregnant mate fall down, of course he's frightened! He just had to let him ride it out until he was calm again. If anything, _he_ was at fault! If he hadn't been away from the tribe, he could've heard something and acted. He could've defended both his brother and Demeter, and _all_ of this could've been avoided!

What kind of uncle would he be if he didn't even take note of their well-beings _before_ they came out? While not yet tangible, they were still living creatures!

He wasn't thinking about it that way—he was thinking once they were born, _then_ he'd stick around to help and tend to them. He didn't mind the idea of helping watch them, feed them, _playing_ with them... in fact it all sounded so wonderful... but what if that was all gone now? Munkustrap was breathing so heavily that he might pass out. Honestly, he could _use_ some rest, but not from fainting. There was no way he'd close his eyes until he saw that Demeter and their litter were safe. God knows when that would be. What Hell was this?

"Bro. Lie down." He said as he gently placed his head on his blanket. Munkustrap was getting light-headed and he tried to steady his breaths. Tugger wouldn't tell him to sleep, since that was beyond probability, but he could at least ease him until they were given notice about Demeter... it had to be soon. They _hoped_ it would be soon. The situation suddenly felt familiar to the younger tom—sitting over his distressed brother trying to comfort him... Briefly for a moment, he was knocked back into his kittenhood.

 _"Munkustrap... what's wrong? Why can't you breathe? Please don't cry!"_

His brother convulsed in awful spasms, struggling to get air in. It was the middle of the night and no one else was awake to hear it. But Rum Tum Tugger had heard it; he was his big brother's sidekick. He started shaking him.

 _"What is it? Why aren't you speaking to me?"_ He began to panic. _"POP! PAPA! MUNKUSTRAP'S CHOKING!_ "

Tugger was afraid to leave his brother's side for days after; even spending nights next to him in his bed, ready to protect him the next time whatever demons had come to possess him that night. Nowhere felt safer than in his brother's reach when he was young, and that's how his kittens would feel—always safe and protected by their father. He snapped back to reality when he felt something take his paw. It was Munkustrap's fingers intertwining with his, desperate for his comfort; he was still in tears, though not as heavy as before. Tugger did not resist or complain; he let him hold on as long as he needed.

* * *

 **Demeter**

She didn't realize it had been four hours by the time she opened her eyes. The sun was still out and time escaped her. Did they feed her poppy milk, or did she simply give out of energy? No, she was too _awake_ for it to have been the drink. She hadn't experienced the effects for herself, but Demeter heard how it took the light from one's eyes once they had a sip. The first thing she was able to tell was that Bombalurina was at her side, wiping her face with a cloth. Of all the queens to be tending to her, she was amazed to find it was the Somali.

It took Bombalurina a moment to realize Demeter's eyes had opened, "You're awake!" She said, sounding relieved. It was the kindest voice she'd heard from the she-cat. "Oh, thank Everlasting." She breathed. Demeter remembered what happened shortly before the darkness came for her; she screamed, by the Gods did she scream. She screamed for her kittens, for her mate, for the Everlasting to spare them and not punish their innocent lives for her own recklessness.

"Where's Munkustrap?" She asked. "I want him... please, go get him."

"I can't leave you alone until Jennyanydots gets back."

 _Jenny... her kittens!_ "My babies!" She exclaimed in a whisper. "Where are they? I want to see them!" Bombalurina was astonished—to feel as weak as she did and _still_ only worry for the ones she loved... unlike how vain and conceited she'd been acting towards her; it made her almost ashamed. Demeter looked into her eyes pleadingly, "Are they okay? Tell me!"

Bombalurina pushed her shoulder so she'd lie back down. "I didn't get to see them. Jennyanydots and Jellylorum are cleaning them."

 _Cleaning?_ So they were alive! "How many?" She asked with the softest of smiles. Bombalurina hesitated. Demeter noticed a sullen darkness in her eyes when she asked. Demeter couldn't hear the answer... not without Munkustrap here. "Go find Munkustrap and bring him to me." She said, more demanding.

"You're still weak, I can't leave you here."

"I'm well enough to be on my own for just a few minutes." She said, though she reclined on the pillows just to ease her. "I'm telling you to bring me my mate." Instead of the same resentful aura she'd gotten from the Somali since the day she arrived, she felt a strange calmness. Something more welcoming, and she wasn't sure what had brought this change between them, but that was unimportant right now. _My kittens are alive_. She thought happily as Bombalurina left their makeshift den. She wanted to cry from the miracle, but her eyes were as dry as ash. She would save her tears for when she needed them. No need for crying, happy or solemn, anymore.

When Bombalurina returned just moments later, Munkustrap stepped inside and quickly took her in his arms, kissing her. "Are you all right?" He asked in a broken voice.

"I am."

He was welting up into another sob. "I'm so sorry." Demeter tried to interrupt him. "This is all my fault. If I didn't keep him here, none of this would've happened."

Demeter pulled away and looked into his sorrowful eyes. "You don't know that. Everything's all right. I'm all right." She swiped a tear from his eye. "And our kittens..." She stopped, grinning. Suddenly, Munkustrap's emotions took a turn; a light seemed to return to his eyes. "They're—"

"They're okay?"

"Yes." Another tear escaped Munkustrap right as he smiled hopefully. Demeter looked out at the opening and said to Bombalurina, "Right?" The red queen didn't answer; her ears went low... and so did Demeter's grin. Both mates were looking at her.

"They... two of them..." She turned away. "Two of them didn't make it."

Words could not describe the look on Munkustrap's face when she said that. Somehow, Demeter had known the moment she hit the ground that some of them wouldn't live... but when Bombalurina said _two_ of them, that meant _only_ two passed. More had survived. She told herself this and quickly took Munkustrap's arms. "It's okay." She whispered so that only he could hear her. She choked back her own urge to weep with him. "This happens; Jellylorum told me it's rare for a full litter to survive out here." She sniffled, feeling a tear creep up on her. "It's all okay." She said to more herself than Munkustrap. She needed to hear it from _someone_. She looked into Munkustrap's haunted eyes and kissed his forehead.

"I'm sorry that I wasn't here." He said, his voice dark with shame. "You needed me."

Before Demeter could say anything, Jennyanydots suddenly entered. Her heart skipped a beat and Munkustrap went completely still; she'd never seen him so chilled. They waited for her to speak. She was teary-eyed, but she grinned and said, "A girl and two boys." She started weeping all over again, but it was of sheer joy. And finally, the single ounces of composure both mates had left in them broke. They began to cry hard as Jellylorum brought them in; wrapped in a single blanket and no longer soaked from Demeter's womb. Outside their nest, Bombalurina herself fell to tears.

The old queens quickly let the couple be once they carefully handed them the wriggling blanket. Demeter pulled it open and her emotions came flooding, her vision was so blurry that she could barely even see them. And the kittens thought _they_ were blind! A beautiful queen with a calico coat, the spitting image of her mother. Two toms, one charcoal with tawny patches on his belly, paws, and chin, and the youngest, a silver and black tabby coat... just like his daddy. Their eyes were fused shut, but as soon as their mother's scent struck their noses, they immediately started mewing and squeaking for her milk.

"Look." She sobbed. "Look at how beautiful." Munkustrap's own happiness was beyond words. He marveled at them with equal awe and wonder. "Shh... Mummy's here. Mummy and Daddy are here." Demeter rolled onto her side, helping the kittens reach her breasts. The hunger then closed the gap between them and the three kittens nursed from their mother as she cleaned their coats with her tongue (which was roughly the size of their heads). Munkustrap stroked them, not believing the feeling. They were _his_... he'd made them. He and the love of his life brought them into the world... Simply exquisite in how they instantly knew their parents and did not shy away from them... just as he knew they were his kittens.

"Hello, sweeting..."

They loved them. Oh, how they loved them.

At last, now the family could rest easy.

* * *

 **Munkustrap**

Two weeks could not have gone by any quicker. The days were cold and short, but it felt like magic how the time could fly by. In the mornings, Munkustrap and Demeter were now awoken by either one or all three of their children. Sophitia, the oldest of the litter. Aéras, the second to have been born. And finally, Tilikum, the one Demeter had dreamed of, a silver kitten with his father's bright blue eyes.

The tribe had rejoiced in their safe birth, and as the human holidays went by, they managed to get along without a single thought of the Copperkits. Munkustrap would claim that he'd made himself clear to them, but they were the last things on his mind.

These past two weeks had been the most time Munkustrap had spent with Rum Tum Tugger in months. Every day he was there in the junkyard, which was never the case. He'd actually been surprisingly generous and patient in helping with the kits and giving the couple some time to rest, unless he needed Demeter to feed them. Already his niece and nephews knew who he was—they got used to his scent and were quite fond of crawling all over him and pawing at his mane... and sometimes yanking on it.

Demeter and Sophitia shared everything from their coats to their eye colors; Munkustrap already saw a beauty that he'd have to scare the toms away from... especially the ones like his brother.

It took Munkustrap a while to figure out whom Aéras favored... but it finally struck him one day when he was swatting at his sister's tail. It reminded Munkustrap of how Tugger used to do so... and then he realized Aéras had the exact same fur patterns as _Tugger_ did as a kitten.

When he shared this with Demeter, she warned him not to say anything because then Tugger might want to start giving him 'lessons.' For his brother's credit, there were only a few things he wanted Tugger to teach them when they were older... how to hunt, and how to hide. Munkustrap could help as well, but he knew Tugger to be the expert at such feats. He wanted only the best for his kittens. For now, he read to them every night and sang to them to calm them or put them to sleep for a nap. He and Demeter had duetted their fair share, and all three kits would cuddle up in a small pile and the mates would tuck them safely between them; their blankets of security.

Some nights, Munkustrap didn't want to sleep... he just wanted to watch his kittens. They held onto each other, dreaming sweetly and keeping warm. He recalled Tugger nuzzling to him closely during winter, or on the nights he was scared to sleep alone. It warmed him to know that his three children each had the other to play with and look after. He'd only been a single-kitten for four years, so his memories of being on his own were vague. Demeter herself said that she was never lonely in her kittenhood because she had her humans. She recovered gracefully from her pregnancy; her bump shrank back down and she was once again the tiny queen the young toms were drooling over. Being a mother changed nothing for them.

The kittens Munkustrap had known so long now seemed so regal and mature compared to his own... such a bizarre notion considering they were _still_ kittens to him. They played well together and kindly donated a _bundle_ of their old toys for them to have. Etcetera boasted, "Tugger and I are going to have kittens just as adorable!" And Demeter just laughed and humored her.

On a rainy evening, sheltered inside their den, Munkustrap played peekaboo with Tilikum as Aéras rolled around a tennis ball and Demeter nursed Sophitia. Somehow the kit was amazed at how his father kept disappearing and reappearing from behind the blanket. Wait until Mistoffelees showed them one of _his_ tricks! "Where's Tilly...?" Munkustrap held the blanket over the blue-eyed kitten's line of vision. "Where's Tilly?" He asked again as if he were already capable of speech. Demeter couldn't stop laughing. "I..." he whipped the blanket away, "found you!" And Tilikum bounced around in excitement with a wide grin, the early sounds of what seemed to be a giggle.

"Isn't Daddy silly?" Demeter said to Sophitia as she pulled away from her nipple. Munkustrap held both his sons in each arm, nuzzling them.

"I have such good boys." He kissed their foreheads. "And good girls." He said, eyeing Demeter. She replied with a similar glance. "You wanna go ahead and give them their baths?"

"I've been waiting all afternoon!" She confessed, loving the bonding session between them that was bath time. Munkustrap handed over Aéras and Tilikum. Neither were particularly anxious to have their mother _clean_ them again, but the less they fussed, the more quickly it was over. Sophitia, meanwhile, _loved_ her bath. She seemed to not mind _anything_ unless she was hungry or sleepy, in which they were able to get her to rest without her trying to fight it, unlike their more fiery Aéras. They were exhausted most days, but there had been so many little moments that made the frustration worth it and the two completely forget their irritation.

"Come on," instructed Demeter as she pulled Tilikum and Aéras into her paws, "bath time!" Her large tongue then cleansed the dirt from their soft coats and they mewed in protest. _Myaaaahhh!_ "Ohhh, stop crying." She teased.

"You're giving them a bath, so horrible!" Munkustrap grinned and picked up Sophitia, who had already been washed. He pressed a kiss into her forehead. Tilikum cried again.

"It's just your mummy!" She said between licks on his face unable to keep from laughing as her sons squealed and trilled as if they wanted to stay dirty.

"I think they're just hungry." Munkustrap said.

"Or sleepy; neither had their nap this afternoon." She showered her teeny tom with kisses and then proceeded to Aéras. "Who's a sweet boy? Who's a sweet, dirty boy?"

There was a rumble of thunder and Sophitia squeaked in Munkustrap's arms. "What?" He said to her. "It's okay, it's just thunder." He held her close and she looked around with wide eyes. Immediately, she started playing with the silver ring on his collar, distracting her from her previous worry. "Guess she doesn't care anymore." Tilikum was suddenly at his lap, pawing for his attention. "What is it, buddy?" Tilikum, with wobbly legs, fell over his leg and got comfortable there. Munkustrap supposed that's where he'd be sleeping tonight. Sophitia, meanwhile, wiggled to return to her mother, wanting the comfort of her scent as she rested. Munkustrap picked up the drowsy silver kitten and placed him between himself and Demeter, "You tired?" He asked; the kit was already having trouble keeping his eyes open. "Daddy's tired too." He said, stroking his head. Demeter finished bathing Aéras and the first thing he did was crawl on top of Tilikum to use him as a pillow. Too familiar for the tom.

"You think it'll be sunnier tomorrow?" Asked the queen.

"I hope so. The kittens can move around some more." He whispered to her, making sure their litter was warm and dry. He nuzzled more closely to them. "We want them to be strong."

"Of course we do, they're Jellicles." Sophitia was nibbling on her mother's ear as she spoke, but this was such a common occurrence that Demeter hardly noticed. "They'll be fine." Munkustrap wondered if it was too early for her to say such things, but he also took solace in her optimism. How couldn't he expect such from his own children? Demeter said, "I had a dream the other night that your father was playing with them." Munkustrap looked at her, eyed gladdened, but heart somber. "I know it's a silly thought, but he loved them so much."

"It's not silly." He touched her cheek. "I'm happy to hear that." He watched Demeter flinch as the sudden wetness of Sophitia's tiny tongue whipped the inside of her ear. "Giving you good night kisses." Sophitia plopped down over Demeter's back and in between her parents. "Not very athletic, I don't think."

"Excuse me?" Demeter feigned offense. "Were _you_ a dancer at two weeks old?"

"Of course!" He chuckled. Sophitia suddenly took shaky steps closer to him and pressed her small, pink nose into his, kissing him. "Good night, sweetheart."


	16. Presents

**Sophitia**

My eyes open. The sun is still gone but I am awake. Mummy and Daddy still have their eyes closed and my brothers are on top of me. There are no more scary sounds outside but it is dark. It is dark, but I can see. I can see more than when I first heard Mummy say my name. I do not like when my brothers lie on me but it makes them happy so I try to like it for them. There are many smells. Good smells. Bad smells. Funny smells. Many noises. Loud. Soft. Pretty. Mummy and Daddy make pretty talking sounds when it is time for sleep. I try to make the same sounds but I cannot.

There is a toy nearby and my teeth hurt and so I must bite. I reach for it to bite but it rolls away from me. It is good to bite because the hurting stops, but I cannot bite Mummy or Daddy. They do not like it when I bite. My brothers also bite, but we play when we bite. I smell things outside and the smell is good, the smell is strong, so I follow the smell. There is a small step to the dirt and the smell is still there and I know this smell but cannot find the smell and so I wander, but not too far from Mummy's smell or Daddy's smell. I do not like to be away from them and they will be sad if I am not there. I do not want Mummy and Daddy to be sad.

I try to follow the smell that is safe but there are many outside smells and insect sounds and bird sounds and I do not want to get lost but I must explore and know more.

* * *

 **Rum Tum Tugger**

Something made his ear twitch, making the images of his dream break apart as his eyes opened. The faint waft of a certain calico kitten was right on top of him. From the moment he saw those kittens, Rum Tum Tugger was in love – the only time he'd _ever_ experienced falling in love. She wriggled her face in his tousled mane and licked at his ear with her warm tongue. So sweet a look when he rolled over and sat her on his chest, "Hey, Princess..." He rasped in a dry, sleepy voice. "Wander off again? What'll Mummy and Daddy say?" As if he could judge—she must get her tendency to disoblige from _him_. Good that she started early, he would say. "You're so beautiful. God knows Munkustrap's gonna be terrified the day young toms start looking at you..." He snorted. "That might be _my_ fault." He confessed mostly to himself; Sophitia clearly didn't understand, but she was looking right into his eyes as though she were listening. "...You listen to your father, all right?" He whispered to the waif, "He knows what he's talking about." He gently poked her nose. "But I'm gonna take care of you too."

Suddenly, Sophitia squeezed her eyes shut and she puffed a wet sneeze into his fur. Carrying on the tradition just as he did to Munkustrap as a newborn, he thought. "Bless you." He snorted. Tugger stroked her and took in her delicacy. Her ears were folded flat against her head, her lips were still thin and pink and her tail was short and pointy. It was appalling to be reminded how he was once this small and fragile years ago... that _all_ kittens were this way at birth. As if to try and apologize, she bat at him with her paw. Once finished 'wiping' him, she started to make herself a nest in his own fur, getting cozy. Tugger turned onto his side and wrapped his arm and tail around her, keeping her warm.

Hours later, he was startled out of his sleep.

 _"We have a lot more in common than you could possibly believe."_

In a jerking motion, he came to only to find he had one paw clutched around his neck as if to protect it. His heart was racing and he was fully alert. He slowly pulled his paw away, not understanding what had occurred. It felt like the sensation one had where they were drifting to sleep and suddenly they were falling... only this had been different. Somehow he felt that something was coming to tear his throat open, so he acted. He checked his paw, expecting blood for some reason, but found nothing. For a moment he swore he heard someone right in his ear, but it was only his imagination. In his arm, he saw that the small kit was no longer tucked up next to him and he sat up. He saw not too far away that Demeter was already out with the triplets, helping them to use the litter bin. He didn't know where Munkustrap had gone; probably to fetch their breakfast. For some reason, he still felt a shiver in his veins, and it wasn't from the cold weather.

Something must've spooked him that he couldn't remember... something he couldn't immediately shake. Probably a bad dream, he thought.

He watched Tilikum try to catch his mother's tail, failing miserably at every clumsy attempt he made at pouncing. He couldn't comprehend how creatures that had just been born could have so much energy. So much an eagerness to wander and see everything. Everything was new and magical. He hoped for Munkustrap's sake that they weren't as naughty as he'd been... he too had the inclination to venture away from the safety of his home, and it wasn't at all good for his father's poor nerves.

Tugger shook his fur out, cleaned his mane, then took a seat with the kits and their mother. She smiled at him, "I saw you found a stray kitten last night."

"More like she found me." Immediately, the kittens started crawling on him, though they quickly returned to their mother when they realized she was the one who was going to feed them. Demeter rested on her side, pulled a cloth over to hide her breasts as she nursed them. It's not like Tugger would care at all – he'd seen _plenty_ in his life so far – but it was a courtesy to cover herself... at least that was _her_ opinion. "Where's my big bro?"

"Um... he should be back soon. I think he was just grabbing us some food."

Tugger got up. "I'll go see what he's up to."

"Fine by me." She shrugged. Before he could leave, Aéras yanked away from Demeter's nipple and mewled. Demeter couldn't help herself, she looked at Tugger. "He wants you."

Tugger twisted his head around, "Who doesn't want me?" He said jokingly. He reached over and nuzzled Aéras, "Whatchu fussing for? Huh?" Discovering his own hunger again, Aéras twirled around and scanned his mother for her milk again, only to perk up curiously when Tugger took a few more steps until he was out of sight. He could hear them squeaking, but he wanted to know where Munkustrap had gone; he knew he hated to be away from his babies even for a moment.

He found him already dragging back a tossed bag of adult-breed kibble that he could barely carry on his own. Neither he nor Demeter had felt like hunting for their food these days. "Here, bro." He said, taking the bag. Munkustrap sighed with relief.

"Thanks."

"How'd you sleep?" He asked, smirking. He knew _just_ how this first-time parent had been sleeping.

Munkustrap widened his eyes for a moment. _"Sleep?"_ He laughed. "I'm pretty good, actually."

"Well, you have good kittens. They don't cry as much at night as most."

"To tell you the truth, I worry more when they _don't_ cry, because then I think something's happened."

"Of course you do. I can just imagine you panicking the first time one of them gets the hiccups." They crossed back to their small den and as soon as they arrived, the kittens all furiously fell over each other to reach their Daddy; he rolled over and let them crawl onto him.

"Good morning." He said to them. He playfully kissed into their faces. It had been the most serene Tugger had seen Munkustrap in... it had been the most serene he'd seen him. Period. So content he was to be with his own children. He remembered his brother not being able to even grasp the difference between the surrogate type of love he had for the kittens of the tribe and the love he'd have for his own. It was beyond any description, he was sure, and while Tugger was prepared to sacrifice _anything_ for the little babes, part of him knew that there was something vastly different between being an uncle and a father.

It suddenly brought back another memory. When he and his father were having 'a talk.' There were many instances where Old Deuteronomy needed 'a talk' with his youngest son... but it only occurred either when he was in trouble, or _thought_ he was going to do something that would get him in trouble. In this case, it was the latter, and as always, the moody and defiant tom used his usual defense: "Why do you care about what I do anyway? They're _my_ choices."

"And you're _my_ son." He said sternly. "When you're a father, you'll understand."

"Pfft. Yeah, that'll happen." He scoffed, dismissively folding his arms.

"You just wait; you're so eager to mate, I'm just _waiting_ for you to bring home a litter of your own."

"I only mate spayed queens, _Dad_." He argued. "Even _I'm_ careful about who I pair up with." He said as though it justified his reckless hobby.

"You're too young to be mating at all, if you want my opinion."

"I _don't_." He scorned. At that, Old Deuteronomy only closed his eyes and sighed like he'd given up... and right then, Rum Tum Tugger was realizing how most of his memories of his father involved a lot of derision and fighting. To think of even _one_ time he and his father could go a day without bickering at each other, he had to go back to maybe five or six years old... and even then he'd have to correct him for being so careless in his ideas of fun... like climbing every tree he saw to the highest branch. He'd say he was pretending to be a leopard; they were arboreal much like Rum Tum Tugger himself had always been. He'd place his eye on a bird and sneak up slowly, but if he pounced to catch it, he'd fall from the branch, gracelessly taking the foul with him in his mouth.

Instead of disdain, Old Deuteronomy would chuckle, pat his head, and say, _"That's_ my little hunter."

The kitten's eyes would light up and his tail would swish happily. "I'm gonna get _really_ good! You'll see!"

"I'm sure you will, my leopard." He said, taking the half-chewed bird with them. Tugger trotted parallel to his gigantesque father.

"I've been practicing my hiss too! Wanna hear?" He looked up at him with an earnest face and Old Deuteronomy smirked at him. _"Hiiisss!"_

"My! That could've been a roar!" He encouraged the sprightly child. "Soon you won't have to be scared of anything coming at you."

"I'm a leopard! Leopards aren't scared of _anything_!"

"Is that so?" He couldn't help but say, "Then how come you slept on top of your brother during last night's thunderstorm?"

Without missing a beat, the young Rum Tum Tugger replied, _"He_ was scared, not me!" Tugger then snapped out of his thoughts right as his brother poured out his portion of their meal. He blinked and shook his head a little.

"You good?" Munkustrap asked him.

"Yeah. Zoned out a little." He wouldn't dare admit what he'd just been thinking about; he was lucky no one asked. The kittens sniffed the adult-breed food and had to be pulled away from it.

"No, no. You had your breakfast, sillies!" Demeter told them—that didn't persuade them, anyhow.

"They're growing kittens." Tugger said mid-chew, "Gotta have their food."

"I'd like to feed them better than _kibble_." Protested Munkustrap. He ruffled Tilikum's ears, "We'll have to teach them how to hunt when they're old enough."

"How old do you think?" Asked Demeter.

"Honestly, as early as possible." The tabby replied. "Before that, they need to know how to _hide_." Demeter lowered her ears with a worried look. Of _all_ the things their kittens should learn, why did hiding _have_ to be one of them? "I know that sounds scary, but it'll be good for them." He reassured, watching his babies bobble around, mewing. "It's just to be safe should _anything_ happen in the tribe."

"Pop taught _us_ how to hide," said Tugger, "we just never ended up having to."

"I got by without anyone teaching me to hide. It's just instinct." Demeter added.

"You can never be too careful." Munkustrap told her, to which she seemed to agree. Tugger laughed; _he_ disagreed, but that was expected. He didn't want his niece and nephews afraid of their own shadows, but they weren't _his_ kittens, therefore it wasn't up to him. He didn't want to imagine having that kind of power anyway; to have small creatures _dependant_ on him for survival. He relied on _himself_ for that already... and lately he'd been having so low an appetite that he felt his skills would be rusty once he jumped back into hunting season. Every cat was different in how they preferred to hunt as well – Munkustrap liked his feet on the ground, Tugger was always stalking from the treetops... he couldn't predict where the little ones would excel. For all he knew, they could surpass _both_ of them in hunting prowess!

"Like I said, it's instinct." Demeter then said. "They'll know when they're ready. And we'll know when they know." They watched the three play with each other; rolling around and swatting. So far, their only instinct was to catch anything that moved, including their own tails! They all sniggered at how swift and whimsical their movements were in their play-fight.

"They still need practice." Reminded the grey tabby, "It all depends on their prey. How small is it, how fast is it, how quick do they need to be to catch it. It's not easy at first."

"Don't think I don't know." The calico remarked with a vague dryness. She twitched—Sophitia was nibbling on her tail. She bat it around playfully so that she could chase it.

"She's _already_ practicing!" Tugger watched. "Look at her go!"

"That's my girl!" Munkustrap pulled her in for a hug, whether she wanted it or not. "My little huntress!" Sophitia mewed confusedly. She wasn't very fond of being yanked away from her little game, but it would only be so much longer that he could scoop her up so easily. Lord knows how fast they would grow, particularly the boys... Aéras especially if he had any of _Tugger's_ genes! He was already looking more stocky than Tilikum and Sophitia, though it could just be how long his fur was. Those were definitely from _his uncle's_ part of the gene pool... and his grandfather's.

Tugger began to think about Old Deuteronomy, how if he were here, he'd tell them stories about their father and uncle... then tell _them_ how much his grandkittens were like them. Munkustrap should probably be the one to tell them about the heaviside layer and how he was already up there... but how he got there would have to wait until they're older, if they ever knew the truth at all. There was no need to mention Macavity to them—he was gone, and he had no chance of being reborn into a new life with the atrocities he committed... but Tugger also remembered that, whether they liked it or not, Macavity would have still been their uncle... but in blood ties only. Nothing could ever make him their family in life or death. And of course, the older kittens _loved_ to talk, so Lord knows they just might let his name slip and stroke one or all three of the kits' curiosities.

It was too early to worry about that now, just as the adults were discussing _many_ things about the kittens too early. He didn't want them to end up like Munkustrap in their adulthoods; riddled with unneeded anxiety and fears. They needed to play and be innocent for as long as they could, because the Everlasting Cat just might not be merciful with them once they were their caretakers' ages.

* * *

 **Munkustrap**

Demeter and Munkustrap, as promised, brought the triplets to play with the older kittens, and Jennyanydots had been simply antsy to have a turn to kitten-sit. To have _little_ little ones again was her dream. She could never raise enough kittens, she'd said. The girls were especially fond of them, and the three kitten toms were just as energetic with them. Jemima was ecstatic to no longer be the youngest Jellicle in the tribe, though she still had a lot of maturing to do compared to her friends... well, Etcetera _may_ be an exception to that.

As the kits all cuddled and rolled around, Skimbleshanks brought over a small sack to the couple. "Gods be praised! It's so much warmer here than it is in Glasgow right now!" He exclaimed. In London, it was about eight degrees, but that was a heatwave compared to how it had been in Scotland. "Anyhow, I come bearing gifts for the little ones!"

Demeter was flattered, putting a paw over her heart, "Oh no!"

"You didn't have to do that!" Munkustrap insisted with equal gratitude.

"Nonsense! It'd be a crime not to bring anything back for the new Jellicles!" He handed them the bag and they took out a pawful of small items. They both cooed adoringly as Demeter pulled out a plush Scottish Piper bear.

Munkustrap pulled out another set of knick knacks for the kits to chase around and hone their hunting skills; anything to work the energy out of them so they'd maybe sleep through the night. "Thank you so much, Skimble."

"Bah!" He swat his paw at them. "What kind of pappy would I be if I didn't bring home presents?"

Demeter brought over the kittens, where the three of them all sniffed and pat the toys inquisitively. "What do you say?" Munkustrap asked. "Tell Pappy 'thank you!'" They responded by giving the Scottish ginger cat nuzzles before hurrying back to their new gifts.

"I'll take it." He grinned, patting their heads. Jennyanydots came over, having just gotten back from a litter bin break, and eagerly picked up Tilikum.

"Ohhh, there's my little god-kitten. One of them!" She gave him a big kiss while the nervous kitten reached for his mama. "You're gonna be so handsome like your daddy."

Jennyanydots handed him to Demeter, who responded, "What do you mean? _I AM handsome!_ " She mimicked the baby voice he would soon have.

"You know, Munkustrap was our little professor." Said the older queen. "I'll never forget him giving me a lesson about reptiles and all that when he got really into them, and I said, 'are you a teacher?' And he said, 'no, I'm only five.'" She and her orange-coated mate guffawed as she lovingly pinched the blue-eyed Mau's cheek. Demeter smiled at him, winking. Munkustrap admittedly looked a little sheepish.

"Thanks, Grannie." He mocked, using her now-preferred nickname around the kittens.

"What are you two still even doing here? We offered to kitten-sit so you two could have your alone time!"

"Alone?" That word was now so foreign to the couple; Demeter arched a brow. "Without our babies?"

"I've been raising kittens since _I_ was a kitten. I think I can manage an hour or two."

"But..." Demeter looked sadly at their litter, "What if they miss us?" At that point, both she and Munkustrap were looking at them; they no longer seem to care if they existed or not since they had new toys to play with. Munkustrap took her arm and gently pulled her up, inferring that Jennyanydots wasn't wrong about them needing some rest.

...Though it would seem his wife got a different idea when they arrived at their den. Munkustrap was cleaning when she snuggled up behind him, purring. She whispered, "Come with me, I want to show you something."

His tail curled curiously, "I thought you were taking a nap. What is it?"

"You'll see." She kissed his shoulder and pulled him by the paw to where they kept the record-player.

Demeter put on _La Javanaise_ , Madeleine Peyroux... and with a knowing, sensuous look, turned to her mate. Munkustrap's eyes changed.

Finally, it was time.

—

As if he couldn't make it any more obvious in his behavior what he'd done that morning, Munkustrap couldn't wipe the silly little grin he had on his face. The lyrics of the song repeated in his head. His cheeks warmed.

 _Ne vous déplaise_  
 _En dansant la Javanaise_  
 _Nous nous aimions_  
 _Le temps d'une chanson_

He was doing a perimeter check when Alonzo sped up beside him. "Why're you smiling like that?" He asked, already aware.

Munkustrap shrugged, unable to hide it. "In a good mood, I guess."

"What happened? You get some time with the wife?" Munkustrap said nothing. "So when's the next litter due?"

"Get back to work." The Egyptian Mau scolded, still smiling.

"Well, I've been looking for you." They slowed to a stop, and now Alonzo felt guilty that he just might ruin his good mood. "We, um... found something on one of the gates just now, something that wasn't there when we did a check at dawn."

Indeed, the tabby's grin was gone and the anxiety he'd been oh-so-familiar with returned.


	17. Friend

**Bombalurina**

It had been a while since she last spent time with the kittens, but the Somali had been hesitant to ruin their time with the _new_ little ones. Bombalurina watched them run around each other from afar as Demeter and Jellylorum supervised and made sure they shared their toys with each other. They would go back and forth from playing with their presents and blanket to suddenly tackling their mum with big hugs. She'd scream happily as she caught them in her arms, her smile brighter and more beautiful than ever.

Only now would Bombalurina acknowledge her exquisite beauty. Demeter radiated with kindness and maternal love... this entire time she'd believed the cats had been swooned by her looks alone, but she'd been wrong... so wrong. She'd been beating herself over the head with how shallow she'd been. Even when she didn't deserve it, Demeter had nothing but pleasant words to say about the scarlet-coated queen. And this very calico that Bombalurina had called a 'hussy' and a 'tramp' behind closed doors bravely gave birth to kittens right next to her, thinking only of them and her mate, far from begging for help.

Demeter threw the blanket over the kittens, "Oh my goodness! Where'd they go? Where are my babies?" They came scrambling out on top of her as if to say, "Here we are!" She threw it over again, the kittens mewing, Demeter laughing, picking them up and kissing them. Bombalurina strided over, strangely nervous as she watched the kits freeze and look at her. As she was still a stranger to them, they huddled over their mother for protection.

Smiling softly, Bombalurina knelt down and held her paw to them. "It's all right. I'm a friend."

"Say hi to Bomba," Demeter encouraged. "Go on." She helped nudge them closer. They sniffed her and pawed at her legs.

Sophitia put her face right up to hers, earning an endeared chortle. Bombalurina sat down with Demeter and Jellylorum, the kittens now comfortable with the three. "They're so beautiful."

"Thank you."

"We've needed some new little ones... it was getting too drab about here."

Jellylorum crossed her arms, "You say that until _you're_ taking care of them." She meant it with good humor. Aéras climbed into Demeter's lap and pawed on her breast; he was hungry. "Oh, I'll go get you a better blanket."

"Thank you, Jelly." Demeter said as the she-cat went to find a clean cloth to cover herself with. Bombalurina, however, nodded.

"You can go ahead."

"You're sure?"

"We're both women here!" Demeter was reluctant to nurse with anyone looking, but she realized it _was_ only them queens and her own babies. She daintily helped the tortie kit to her nipple. Bombalurina could not but watch, mesmerized by how naturally it came to her to feed her young, how sweetly he drank, how she stroked his face; an inborn trust between them. "It must feel so good... to have kittens of your own." She said, almost in a whisper.

"It's surreal—as soon as Jelly brought me them in their blanket... I couldn't believe it." She had shivers just remembering the first time she held them. "They were finally _here_." Bombalurina looked to see both Sophitia and Tilikum were trying to climb up her belly. They were literal miniatures of Demeter and Munkustrap; it was _uncanny._ "You can hold them." Demeter told her with the warmest of voices – Bombalurina didn't feel worthy; imagine if these creatures knew what awful, unentitled things she'd thought of their mother when she did nothing to earn such disgust, yet their eyes suggested forgiveness as if they understood the concept.

Carefully, she picked up Tilly, the smallest one that curled up in her arm. He purred softly as he put a paw on her face, smelling her. She did the same with Sophitia, "Little sweeties."

"Did you ever want your own?" Demeter asked.

"Well, not when I was younger." She confessed, setting the calico kit down. "Honestly, I'm not sure how much longer I have to make that decision."

Demeter sniggered. "What on earth do you mean? You're young!"

"Not like you, though. Just another two weeks before I'm thirty-six... I still can't tell if I'm too old or too young for my lifestyle."

The calico shook her head. "Don't let Jenny or Jelly hear you say that. They'd say 'age is a state of mind' or something."

"Of course it is... doesn't mean your body agrees with you." She scanned Demeter up and down. "You've got plenty of time; you take care of yourself."

"It isn't just _me_ I have to look after now." She lightly burped her onyx-colored kitten, "When Munkustrap is crowned, the tribe is just as much mine as it is his... I need to know what I'm doing to look after everybody. I can't let him be in this alone."

Bombalurina replied, "Nothing should come before your children... that much I can tell you." Demeter looked at her, surprised. "Everyone else here knows to take care of each other... but your babies _need_ their Mummy and Daddy. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise." With a look of understanding, the calico nodded her head. "If you ever _do_ need anyone, though... I'll be here to lend you a paw. That I promise." And in that moment upon giving her word, Demeter gave her a look that couldn't be described as anything other than gratitude. It relieved the Somali—she was forgiven.

* * *

 **Munkustrap**

Alonzo brought him to where young Pouncival had reported the discovery; Munkustrap saw in the kit's paw a small note. "I can't read it." He said to him, embarrassed.

"That's okay. You did well." Munkustrap answered as he read silently.

 _Silver-and-black tabby, meet me in the car park of Tesco Metro at dusk. I have something I must share with you. - A friend_

Munkustrap didn't like the sound of it at all, yet he felt inclined to follow said instructions. Alonzo asked him, "What does it say?" Munkustrap folded the note so that he couldn't read its contents. No use in getting him worked up after they finally had no worries.

"It's a false alarm. Just a human's shopping list."

Alonzo blinked and pursed his lips. "Huh. Guess they're not remembering what they went out for today." He chuckled. Munkustrap was already pacing away, going against his reserved demeanor, his discontent was plain on his face. He sat alone on a rubble pile and read it again. _A friend_ it said... this must be a trick. A 'friend' would've alerted him personally that they must speak... no less have him trek so far away from the tribe. No, someone still wanted him gone, and he could bet his bottom dollar it was a Copperkit.

Did they really think him _that_ foolish? ...Or maybe they didn't. Maybe someone _somewhere_ had to see him and they had no way of contacting him without suspicion. God, this was too boggling, and he did _not_ intend to take any risks while his kittens were around. The way it had been written seemed telling as well; hastily, in a sloppy rush, like they were afraid someone might catch them. On top of that, they didn't _have_ to leave a signature at all. They could've just written for him to meet them there... but they felt it was necessary to reassure him.

Yet he'd been lied to so many times before, how could this possibly be the truth? He'd think he'd be better at detecting deceit by now. _God damn it. Make up your mind_ , he shouted at himself. He would go. Once his wife and babies were asleep, he'd leave Tugger to look after them and go meet with them. The thought would itch him all day if he didn't.

* * *

 **Mungojerrie**

The Bengal twins had scored well that day; so many humans making returns and exchanges now that the holiday had passed. Toys that were put back into storage made the perfect opportunity for them to find gifts for the tribe's newest members. They had no clue what kittens liked, so they just grabbed everything they could fit in their sacks. "Do you think the babies will like any of these?" Rumpleteazer asked, pulling out some chew-toys and small cars for them to chase. Kits needed to run around, after all!

"We grabbed more than we can carry. They're bound to find _something_ they'll like." Rationalized Mungojerrie. "Hell, _I_ might keep some of these!"

"As Peter Pan said, 'never grow up!' Or something of the like." She sneered.

"I _won't_ grow up." He told her, having a penchant for details like that.

Rumpleteazer shivered; it was _freezing_. "Did we grab a blanket by any chance?"

"There's one lying around. You'll be all right." His sister took one and wrapped herself in it with only her head poking out the top.

"Ugghhh, when's spring?" Her voice shuddered dramatically.

"We got two more human months... might be longer if what they're saying about that cold snap is true." Rumpleteazer whined and pulled the comforter tighter. On cue, the siblings saw the Egyptian Mau crossing the area. "Hey, mate!" Mungojerrie hurried over with his bag and Rumpleteazer did her very best to without leaving the warmth of her blanket. She only fell flat on her face.

"Yes?" Munkustrap said pleasantly. He was happy to have _anything_ distract him from present matters, even if it was these two.

"I know you've probably had enough of us giving you gifts, _but_ , my sister and I think we might've found some treasures for your little ones." He said, opening the bag for the tabby to look. Rumpleteazer walked over, holding the blanket around her as though it were a cloak.

"You two..." He sighed, touched. "You really didn't have to."

"We knew you'd say that." Rumpleteazer said with a grin, "So we came prepared to insist!"

Munkustrap gingerly took the bag, "Thank you." His smile faded, his expression becoming more somber as he asked the tom, "Jerrie, how's..." He pointed to the back of his own neck, "...um..."

"Oh, I'm great!" He responded quickly. "Don't worry your pretty little head about it. The sister's helped keep it clean and the bandages fresh." He bumped Rumpleteazer's arm for effect. She returned the favor by slamming her hip into his.

"Good! Good, good." He replied gladly. "Let's keep it that way."

"You let us know if your kits like what we got. If not, we've got plenty more they can look at."

"Of course." Munkustrap, for once, seemed like he didn't want to walk away from them—something was on his mind... it was _Rumpleteazer_ that recognized it.

"You're anxious." She said knowingly. "Is everything all right?"

The blue-eyed tom shook his head. "I'm fine. I mean, _anxious_ is kind of my default mood." He cracked a small smile.

"Everyone knows that, but what's got you in a tizzy today?" She paused. "Get it, tizzy? Rumple... never mind." She turned her head away.

"Don't be afraid to have a chat with us if the mood strikes you." Mungojerrie finished for her. Munkustrap saw that as invitation enough to take his leave; as soon as he was out of earshot, Mungojerrie's sister turned to him.

"Something's not right."

"Of course it isn't."

"Do you think he's received another threat?"

"I don't know. It's been a while since something's happened. I ought to keep an eye on the bloke." After that statement, he took his sister so that they could get inside their den where it was much warmer. For the rest of the day, nothing of interest occured, except maybe a tidbit or two of snow fell for about an hour before dark, but it didn't last the moment it hit the pavement... It was only the beginning of January, and if this was the most it snowed all winter, the Bengal twins knew what to expect for the next month or two. They'd been through worse weather... it _was_ London, after all. The two had been Londoners their entire lives, and somehow in their travels, life always brought them back to said city.

No matter how much they talked about escaping for good, the familiarity of it seemed to be a comfort... at least for Mungojerrie. He liked what he knew; if he knew his environment like the back of his paw, then it made planning robberies that much easier. Rumpleteazer could adapt to anything, but only when she _wanted_ to. She liked to plan for her future, but sometimes wound up getting too caught up in the now.

Rumpleteazer let out a big yawn; she hadn't left her blanket all evening and was about to fall asleep when she brought the subject up. "Jerrie, I want to ask you something."

"What is it?"

"Do you still ever think about leaving?"

"You mean the junkyard?"

"More than the junkyard. I mean _London_." She said curtly. "There's still so many things we haven't seen. We made that promise that we'd see the world together, and so far we haven't even seen half of our own nation."

"It's not that easy, as we've come to realize. Honestly, it's a miracle we ended up somewhere as accommodating as this."

"I can't disagree with you, I suppose."

"We're right in the middle of everything—it's good for business."

"There are plenty of other cities that are _good_ for business."

"All right. When you find a way to easily _travel_ there, let me know. I think about these things too, sister."

"Well, stop _thinking_ and start _doing_." She flipped over onto her side. " _Tuh._ If only it were easier."

"Don't fret about it. Things aren't as bad as they could be."

"I know... good night." She said.

"Night." Right as he was about to lie his head down to sleep, he caught Munkustrap's scent and perked it right back up. He was climbing over the gate. Where on earth was _he_ of all cats going? The very cat that dreaded leaving them unprotected. Mungojerrie could not ignore this—he crept out of the box as not to wake Rumpleteazer and followed from a distance.

* * *

 **Munkustrap**

Tesco Metro wasn't as far of a walk as Munkustrap had anticipated; while he was grateful for that, he still didn't know what to expect to be waiting for him. There were a few parked cars and the store lights were still on. The new, strange area around him made him tense and he was in a hurry to return home to his kittens. He kept up his guard, sprinting from underneath one car to the next to avoid being spotted by humans. God knows he didn't need anyone thinking he was 'lost' and trying to take him to a shelter.

The note had said the parking space, but he didn't know what that meant. _Where_ in the parking lot? _What section?_ Were they expecting him to just magically find them without trouble? Munkustrap kept low to the ground and eyes intense and focused on whatever might be trying to find _him_ first. God... how long had it been, besides his last 'meeting' that is, since he left the tribe? After his father's funeral, Munkustrap simply didn't have the _energy_ to travel. He barely even ate no matter how many times his friends offered him food and begged him to at least take a nip of something. The slightest thing that reminded him of Old Deuteronomy – that he was _dead_ , to be more precise – made him fall over sobbing at the drop of a hat. What hurt more for the tom was seeing how the others were affected; the kittens also cried for days, saying that they missed him. At the very least, Macavity had gone with him.

From the corner of his eye, he saw a shadow dart across the park and Munkustrap flashed his teeth for a moment; his survivor instincts getting the better of him. His fur stood on end and he growled.

"Don't be alarmed." A voice seemed to beg; Munkustrap recognized it and raised a brow, stepping closer. Still with swollen marks and scars came out the Copperkit that had knocked Demeter over. Munkustrap felt something inside him grow; the urge to attack and curse him. _This_ was who summoned him? And the Egyptian Mau had thought they'd mistaken _him_ for an idiot! "Please... I don't bear any ill will against you."

"I bear plenty for _you_." He said, practically snarling. "You attacked my people. You threw my mate down, _knowing_ she was with kittens!"

"And I did it all in fear of my _own_ life." Said he.

"That's no excuse. _Two_ of my kittens didn't survive... I should've killed you when I had the chance."

"But you didn't!" Reminded the shaking tom. "You had every right, but you spared me..." Munkustrap's expression faltered for a moment, but he quickly pulled it back. "I heard you tell Raithen you wouldn't forget his kindness... Sir, I assure you, _I_ will not forget yours!"

Munkustrap chuffed, signaling the injured tom to assume a submissive stance if he wanted to speak. The tom did so, lowering to the ground. "Why did you bring me out here?" Munkustrap asked, getting directly to the point. He wouldn't linger on his past 'kindness.'

"I want to warn you." Said he, "About Raithen... the moment I spoke words to you, I'd broken my vow of silence and knew I'd be done for if I went back to him. I've been hiding out here, you see. I'm a deserter now." Munkustrap listened quietly. "He's not finished with you yet." He said clearly and sternly. "I heard him say that he'd give you some 'quiet time' with your new family... I don't know how long he meant, but he doesn't intend to go quietly and let the situation pass. He wants your tribe, and Raithen – believe me – _Raithen_ always gets what he wants whether he plays fair or not."

"I don't understand. Why does he hate me so much?" Munkustrap found himself asking. "We could've come to an agreement if he'd just talked to me about it _first_."

"It's not _you_ he despises, it's your father." The corner of Munkustrap's lip twitched and he recoiled. "In a way, I suppose he's getting revenge on him through _you_."

"Revenge for _what?_ "

"That, I don't know." He admitted, only frustrating the grey tom even more. He couldn't reply, overcome with too much confusion and hurt. His pupils were still wide and round and his ears were still pressed against his skull. "I'm sorry for your loss, truly I am." He said as if that would win him over. Not even with Munkustrap's sensitive, soft heart would he worm his way in that easily.

"The loss of my father or the loss of my kittens?" He hissed.

"Both." He answered swiftly. "I am willing to give you any information I come up with, to be of _any_ service to you if it will compensate."

Munkustrap ignored his offer, going straight to, "Do you know what the bastard has planned next?"

"I don't. But the most I can do for now is make sure you're aware that it isn't over."

"How do I know you're not lying?"

"...You don't." The tom said lowly. "All I can offer is my word... it's your choice whether you accept it or not." Indeed, that's what it had come to, and Munkustrap was uncertain about what his senses were telling him. One told him that he was horrified for his life, but was an honest cat that wanted to be forgiven for his actions... another told him that these were nothing but lies and he wanted an in to the tribe as a means of being a spy. He didn't know which was true. "We're both afraid." He suddenly said. "We can at least agree on that."

"Only _I'm_ afraid for my tribe. For my mate, my kittens, my brother. You're afraid for _yourself_. You have nothing to lose, I have _everything_ to lose." He clarified with a disdainful taste on his tongue.

"You think I don't have any loved ones?" The tom replied, catching the tabby off guard. "You think we're born into this world with no one to care about?" Munkustrap averted his eyes, realizing that the Copperkit had truth in his words. "I understand where you're coming from, but you must _think_. Just by being here with you I'm risking my life!"

It then struck Munkustrap; his family! His tribe! They were undefended. "I need to be getting back as quickly as possible. Do you have nothing more to say?"

"Just one more thing." Said the tom, rising slowly. "...Thank you." The tabby cocked his head to the side; that had been unexpected. Munkustrap nodded, adding nothing. The Copperkit turned around and walked away, leaving Munkustrap to return to his own abode, not sure what to do with the information he'd just been given.


	18. Honor

**Munkustrap**

It began snowing harder than it had in years at about five-thirty in the morning. Munkustrap was dreaming that he was reclined at the bottom of a river, everything was murky and green. He was searching for food for his family; it had fallen all the way to the bottom. He pushed through the branches of sunken trees and tumbled through rats somersaulting in the current. Two figures, those of stiff, lifeless newborns, drifted into view and Munkustrap woke up with a start.

He let out only a gasp when he saw in front of him Tilikum's sad, confused azure eyes just inches in front of his. He was shivering; indeed, it was colder than _any_ of the Jellicles were accustomed to. "Come here, buddy." Munkustrap whispered, pulling him into a cuddle. He kissed the top of his head and he felt his son's soft purr rumble against his neck. Though it was still dark, Munkustrap could see the white flakes of snow floating down to the earth and, shockingly, _sticking_ to the ground. It wouldn't last. Once dawn came, it would all be gone, but he was nonetheless dazzled. Tilikum's eyes were still fixated on the strange objects falling from the sky.

Munkustrap smiled, "Wanna look?" The kit looked at him and poked his ears up. Carefully easing his way to the foot of their den, cautious to not wake Demeter, nor the two kittens that were curled up with their new toys. They might not have to take a trip to Scotland after all to give their kids a white winter! At least not _this_ year. Munkustrap leaned forward so that he and Tilikum could both feel the snow land on them.

Immediately the kitten's eyes went big and round and his head darted to and fro, mystified. He pulled his paws out of his father's arms and reached for them, swatting at the snowflakes. Munkustrap couldn't help it; he laughed. The flakes would dance around his face and Tilikum would lick and chomp at them, trying to eat them.

 _Don't worry, Daddy! I'll take care of these evil white flies!_

It took several more seconds before Tilikum realized catching them was no easy feat and decided to just watch instead, shaking it off his fur. He looked a little shocked when Munkustrap carried him back inside and lied him down. He wanted to play more! "It's too early, silly boy." He nuzzled him. "Even your siblings are still sleeping." Tilikum watched the snow from where they lied; it was both fascinating and otherworldly at how so suddenly, so quickly, that his little ones had gotten such personalities of their own. He wondered what he'd been like that early on. Munkustrap was well-aware of his painful shyness since his earliest memory, but wondered if he'd been playful and curious like his own babes.

Right as Tilikum began to quiet down and began to sleep once more, Munkustrap thought of his dream, more so the bodies floating in the water. Only a silly nightmare brought on by undiscussed heaps of stress, his inner-sense wanted to say, but his thoughts kept pushing at him to think about it. It had been so vivid, so real. Those were two that could have been his own... and he wondered if he would've handled it better if he knew for sure they died in the womb naturally and not from Demeter's fall... something he could've prevented entirely. He looked back at the pale-grey kit in his arms, now snoozing. He hoped his babies felt safe when he and his mother held them and knew just how precious their lives were.

 _You'll never know just how much I miss you  
You'll never know just how much I care  
And if I tried I still couldn't hide my love for you  
You ought to know, for haven't I told you so  
A million or more times?  
You went away, and my heart went with you  
I speak your name in my every prayer..._

Munkustrap had begun singing wistfully, _thinking_ it was a lullaby to his kitten... but he realized it was for someone else. Someone who could no longer hear his voice.

 _If there is some other way to prove that I love you  
I swear, I don't know how..._

He looked at Tilly, who was purring softly in his sleep.

 _You'll never know..._  
 _If you don't know now_

—

The next morning entailed an unexpected, but pleasantly surprising activity for the grey tom. Demeter's hormones were fluctuating since the birth; almost as much as they had while she was expecting. She was finally small and flexible enough to pas de deux again, but that's not quite what she had in mind that day. As soon as they got the kittens settled to spend some time with their uncle, Demeter brought her mate inside their den and they closed the cardboard doors.

Demeter didn't bother trying to quell her own grunts and moans as he went down on her; Munkustrap drank from her rose, opening the petals to revel in her sweet taste. He was covered by their blanket. Although he wasn't getting any physical reciprocation, it didn't matter to him. He wanted Demeter to feel good, and when she felt good, he was happy. Once satisfied, he pulled his head out from the comforter and saw her heated eyes.

She chased her breath, "You're sure you don't want me to return the favor?" Her paws went up and down his sides as he crawled over her. "I'd be more than happy to." She smiled flirtatiously.

" _You_ , my naughty queen, might need a time out." He nuzzled her nose, grinning widely. "I think I've spoiled you." He rubbed his cheek to hers, purring. Demeter wrapped her arms around him, cradling his head as he blanketed her body with his own. "Did you sleep well last night?"

"Mhm. I did. And you?"

"I slept fine." He fibbed. "Tilly woke me up; I think he was cold."

"Aw... at least he got to snuggle with his daddy." She pulled him in closer. "I can't believe it's _actually_ snowing."

"It shocked the hell out of me too. I'm glad the kittens will get to see it."

Demeter reached over and pushed one of the flaps open; they got a decent view of them hopping around and chasing their own footprints. "It's beautiful." Munkustrap sat up a little and watched them play; they pounced and yelped excitedly onto Rum Tum Tugger, who was just as lively as they were. He grabbed Aéras and tickled him by nibbling into his neck. Having new kittens around (that _didn't_ want to tackle him and try to kiss him on sight) gave him an excuse to act childish once in a while—Munkustrap couldn't blame him for wanting to. It was nice to try and get into their mindsets and see the world as new and amazing. He was fond of the sight of seeing his brother play so well with the kits; he was worried he'd get bored of it and start wandering off again.

"Do you think Tugger will change his mind about having his own?"

Munkustrap shook his head. "Not a chance. Keep in mind, he knows he can give them _back_ after so long." He chuckled.

—

"Mate, if you've got a moment, I'd like to have a word with you." Mungojerrie had come across Munkustrap helping get his kittens settled down for a nap. Demeter was getting them bundled up and feeding them their snacks. The blue-eyed Mau looked at the calico, gesturing for her permission. Demeter shrugged. Munkustrap found it somewhat off-putting that the Bengal tom had come alone _without_ his other half.

"What is it?"

"It's... it's about our guests from back in the fall... and about your little meet-up last night."

Munkustrap's eyes went wide. "You knew about that?"

"Not _exactly_. I saw you leaving the area, something you _never_ do on your own, so I followed." He sighed. "Look, I haven't been completely honest with you; when you asked me if I knew anything about the Copperkits, I didn't think they would do you any harm... I should've known better."

Munkustrap couldn't believe what he was hearing. He was suddenly feeling heat in his chest and he looked at him more cross. "So you _know_ them."

"Well, _no_. I don't _know_ them. I'm not associated with them in any way, nor is my sister!" He stated right as an extra chilly gust of wind flew by. "But for a while, when we were both homeless and desperate for a safe place, their tribe took us in – not as members, but as..." His lip curved downward in an abashed grimace, " _S_ _tewards_. That's the best way I can think to put it."

"You _worked_ for them." Munkustrap said rather accusingly.

 _"Yes."_ Mungojerrie snapped back. "All right? We worked for them. We _all_ do things we aren't proud of. My sister and I didn't _want_ to be there, but it was what kept us alive. We were seventeen and didn't know anything else!"

"What kind of work?"

"Whatever kept us fed. Spying, stealing... they saw what skills we had and made use of it. And I'll be honest, I liked it at first." Munkustrap gave him an incredulous look, to which Mungojerrie replied, "But we had limits. No violence. We may be petty thieves, but even _we_ don't enjoy cruelty."

"But you knew it was wrong."

"You'd never know what it's like being out on the streets! You grew up with everything you needed!" The tabby lowered his ears; he had a point. "I didn't give a damn about rules or ethics, I cared about _survival_. _My_ survival, _my sister's_ survival... and now I'm worried for yours _and_ your children's!" He knew just what to say; he saw Munkustrap's eyes change and he suddenly appeared to be listening without rancor. "I know you detest the idea of having to maim or kill anyone, _really_ , I know what that feels like... but letting those wankers go unscathed was a mistake. They'll only know your weak spots now—they know you're kind, and while that's not such a terrible thing to be, they'll use it against you!"

"It's a crime now to take pity on somebody?"

"No, but it's what'll get you killed." He growled. "I can't predict what might happen next, but I'm telling you now, if you keep doing what you did last time, we could start _losing_ people." At that, Munkustrap was visibly rattled. "Raithen doesn't normally go directly for his target; he likes to work his way _in_. I can assume that's how he intends to take the tribe."

"He's _not._ This isn't _his_ tribe."

Mungojerrie nodded. "That's the attitude you have to have should you see him again."

"But Jerrie, I'm not going to stoop down to his level and have him _killed_ on sight... there has to be some other way."

"Some other way to _what?_ "

"Reason with him!" He exclaimed.

"Bollocks!" Mungojerrie shouted, igniting Munkustrap's own fury even further. "After everything I've just said, you _still_ think he can be reasoned with?"

"That's not my way." Munkustrap said. "It's not the Jellicle way." Mungojerrie bit his lip and turned his head away. "I wasn't _raised_ to take prisoners and slaughter them one by one! I was raised to have dignity and honor!"

Mungojerrie unbuckled his collar and rotated so that, behind his neck and down to his shoulder, Munkustrap could see his scar, "Does anyone who did _this_ have _honor_?" Munkustrap swallowed, becoming silent. He went on, getting louder, "Does anyone who tarnished your father's good name have honor? ...Does a cat that pushes a pregnant queen down on her belly and expect to be spared have any honor? If they had any honor, you would be raising _five_ kittens instead!"

Munkustrap's entire body shook with rage and he hissed lowly from his throat as a warning not to speak another word.

Mungojerrie took a step back. "Munkustrap, whether you feel the same or not, you're a trusted friend to me. That's why I'm telling you this: there _is_ no honor in this world! The world doesn't operate on honor, it operates on lies and deceit! I'm sorry! I know as leader that you don't want to hear it, but it's the bloody truth!"

He was right; he _didn't_ want to hear it. He'd seen enough hatefulness in the world and he wanted to be that one ounce of kindness it had left. That's how his father had seen it, and that's how the Mau would... No, he wouldn't sink as low as them. He did not have to think like Macavity or any Copperkit to work against them. He took a deep breath and let his anger simmer. "What else do I have to know?"

"Mate, there's not much else even _I_ know." He said.

"How long were you with them?"

"Oh God... about a year-and-a-half? Less, maybe."

"Did they know anything about my father at the time?"

"No... to be honest, when the bloke mentioned Old Deuteronomy, I was a little spooked." He snorted nervously. "Raithen didn't let me or my sister in on a lot of his plans – we were the lowest on the food chain... metaphorically, I mean."

"What's Rumpleteazer had to say about all of this?"

"She doesn't like to speak about it; that's why I didn't bring her with me."

Munkustrap didn't want to think about why... more so _ask_. It might be too much for them. "Thank you for looking out for me." He said simply and plainly, earning a befuddled reaction from the fellow tom. "If... if you have anything else to say, you know where to find me."


	19. An Edge

**Mungojerrie**

When he walked into their small tent, Rumpleteazer asked, "What did he say?"

"He took it well... er, _well enough_." Mungojerrie said, shaking the snow off his fur. "I'm hoping I knocked _some_ sense into him... _God_ , I want to take his shoulders and shake him against a wall sometimes."

"How much did you tell him?"

"All he needed to know, all that _we_ know... God, every time I look in his eyes, I realize he's the same tom he was when we first came here six years ago. Trusting and guileless... but I can't even get mad at him for it. I _wish_ I had that kind of trust."

"If cats _didn't_ have that trust, we wouldn't be able to trick _anyone_." Teazer reminded him coolly.

"Well, we're not trying to trick our leader. For once we're trying to _help_ him, and of course he won't take us seriously!"

"And you thought he _would?_ " Rumpleteazer scoffed at him. "If he's not going to listen to _reason_ , maybe he'll listen to _feelings_... a lad with a heart as soft as his shouldn't be so hard to persuade... _I_ should know."

"It doesn't have to come to that yet." Mungojerrie insisted. "Besides, whether he wants our advice or not, he's loyal to the tribe. So _we're_ safe so long as we stay on his side."

"I'm not worried about our safety, I know _we're_ safe. I'm worried for _Munkustrap_... you're certain he knows what he's up against?"

"Of course not. I'm not a mind-reader! If you're so concerned then why didn't _you_ go have a chat with him?" He scolded.

"I don't like talking about those dodgy tossers; just to think of them makes me itchy!" Right on cue, she wildly scratched at her arm and ear. "How can you even stand it?"

"It's necessary. Granted, I didn't think I'd ever hear the word _Copperkit_ again!" He lied down on their blanket, his neck sore and head throbbing suddenly. He closed his eyes, "God, the human year's just started and _already_ there's trouble."

"Not the fun kind either." Pouted the she-cat. "I could use a warm cup of tea and some Erik Satie on the record right now."

Mungojerrie snickered. "Which piece do you have in mind?"

 _"Gnossienne, number one_. Don't make me _choose_ , Mungojerrie!" She sighed longingly. "There were _some_ good things about our owners; we can't deny that what they lacked in sense, they made up for in taste."

"They had enough taste to take _us_." He grinned, rubbing his forehead to suppress the pain. Then he laughed, "Look at me; all this nonsense has given me a migraine."

Rumpleteazer brought over the pillow and placed his head on it. "If I have to, I'll will myself to talk to him... Maybe give him a taste of what to look for."

"You need to let him learn his own lessons, sister. He'll never be a strong leader if he doesn't learn to put his foot down."

"We'll _have_ no leader to learn to put his foot down if he underestimates Raithen again." She asserted. She sighed and pondered her next move. "What do you think?"

"Right now I think it's too damn cold to think!" At that, his sister let out an entertained giggle. Mungojerrie began to fall into a light slumber, resting his head until the pain abated. He never actually fell asleep, but when he opened his eyes, he found that it was _still_ snowing and his sister was watching quietly with her blanket wrapped around her. "Teazer?" He said, sitting up. She made a soft hum to indicate she heard him. "What is it?"

"Nothing; just watching the snow... It's a little unsettling how of _all_ the times we could have a cold snap, it happened when Raithen appeared... it's like he brought it _with_ him."

"Maybe the snow will keep him away."

"It'll certainly keep _us_ busy." She said sadly. Mungojerrie sat with her, taking his share of the blanket. "I always think about that day when it gets like this... it's been so long since I've seen it snow so hard."

"Don't think about it." Mungojerrie replied with his ears falling flat. "We've thought about it enough."

Rumpleteazer gently lied her head on his shoulder, "At least you're still here." She said, closing her eyes. "Every day I thank the Everlasting Cat for not splitting us up, or _whatever_ it was that let us stay together."

Mungojerrie stifled his own remorse of the day she was speaking of. It still haunted him, sometimes during the day, sometimes during the night, sometimes when he was awake, others when he slept. Nonetheless, he learned a great deal from the Copperkits—things he wasn't _supposed_ to learn, but they underestimated the tom's intelligence, his ability to observe and absorb the little details around him and remember things. And Rumpleteazer, she'd just wanted to be happy. She just wanted somewhere her and her brother could prosper. If only they'd trusted their instincts before setting foot in their territory.

In a way, although he insisted that they don't think about it, Mungojerrie was glad he remembered; he'd be lost without what those memories taught him about the world. He didn't understand how Munkustrap didn't seem to learn a _damn thing_.

* * *

 **Munkustrap**

When Munkustrap shared what had been going on, including his meeting with the tom and information from Mungojerrie, Rum Tum Tugger found himself making a decision not even his own brother had expected.

"You're joking." The silver tom said to him in disbelief.

"Brother, I want you to stop for a second and think." He slid down the small platform he was lying back on and stood up in front of him. "If those two _lived_ with them, then they probably know what they're talking about. It wouldn't be such a stretch to listen to what they have to say."

"I know that, but to let them in the _council?_ None of my colleagues will agree to that!"

"Who gives a damn? _You're_ the leader!"

"I'm not!" He shouted back at his brother, appalling him. "I haven't been crowned yet."

"And yet they still follow your orders." Tugger reminded. For once, he was showing his brother that he _did_ have some sort of grasp on logic. Something Munkustrap appeared to be lacking. "If they put up an argument, you tell them it's not up to them!"

Munkustrap furrowed his brows, "It's not that easy."

"Why?"

"These toms are my friends; they'll think I don't... _approve_ or, _trust_ them enough."

"Then you tell them it's not about trust, it's about the tactic! Having Mungojerrie on your team will give you an edge against the Copperkits."

"How can you be so sure of that?" He asked sternly.

"I'm not." Tugger confessed. "But at least _I'd_ be willing to take that chance. He's been a Jellicle for a long time – if he or Rumpleteazer wanted to set the junkyard on fire, they'd've done it by now!"

Munkustrap hated to admit it, but Rum Tum Tugger had a decent point for once. He underestimated his own brother's ability to give him a well-reasoned argument, and he hated that he _knew_ he was right, that it was the rational choice! It wasn't so much a _risk_ , as it was against what was already set in stone; Munkustrap _had_ his crew, they'd been his chosen followers since he was young, since _they_ were young! Would they be so willing to allow a sudden new member, one that boasted about his prowess in crime, into their circle just because their _leader_ said so? He sighed.

"It's not a difficult decision to make." Huffed the Maine Coon; their breath puffing into the cold air. "You overthink every little thing possible."

"At least I _think_ about something before I do it." He hissed, letting his stress do all the talking.

Tugger was now the one rolling his eyes. "That's nice, _brother_."

"You get what I mean!" He delivered as a half-arsed apology. "I have _kittens_ now, Tugger.

"All the more reason to take every step possible to keep those freaks away from them... there's only so much we as a tribe can do if they attack and we're not prepared."

"I've just got so much on my mind!" He expelled worriedly. "I just—I just want to know that they're safe... to be a father and not have to worry about anything else." He said. At last, _someone_ got to hear it! He sighed, feeling as though an immense weight had risen from his chest. "If... If Dad were here, he'd know what to do."

Tugger's eyes dulled; Munkustrap wondered if mentioning him had been necessary. But for once, he was speaking _just_ what was on his mind. Tugger, however, said something _else_ rather honestly, "He'd probably be just as worried as you are; only neither of us would know it." Munkustrap stopped, looking up at his little brother in realization of the truth in his words.

"He told me that there'll be plenty of times where I might not know what the right thing to do is... but he told me that to always put what's best for the tribe first." _Pay attention._ He heard him say again. There, under the oak tree where he was lifted up into its branches. _Keep your eye on what you're doing_. "I'm barely sleeping as it is," he admitted, "I can't even think straight most days. All I know is I love my kittens. I love the tribe, I love Demeter, I love _you_." He said. His brother reacted in a way that could only be described as startled. "I want to know that I'm capable of taking care of you all on my own... but right now I just can't. That's why I came to you; I have to know what I'm doing is the right decision."

Tugger came out of his half-trance and shook his head slightly. "Brother, the only one that can figure that out is _you_." Such insightful words coming from such a devil-may-care cat... but Munkustrap knew there was so much more to the curious cat than what he liked to boast. Munkustrap rubbed his eyes and sighed; there was no end to this confusion. "Right now, everything's fine. Just... try not to let it overwhelm you. That's the _last_ thing you need right now."

"Right now," Munkustrap whispered, "I just want to be with my kittens." And once he said that, he and his brother found no reason not to join them and Demeter in their warm den where they'd been waiting. Before Munkustrap could go to them, he gave him another look, "I should have _you_ as my chief advisor."

Tugger snorted, assuming it was a joke. "Oh, sure."

"Tugger," he said more seriously, "you've got a hell of a brain... it'd be nice for everyone to see that for once."

"I'm not one for long-term thinking, bro." He said, sliding his thumbs under his belt, "Besides, you think anyone here will take _me_ seriously?" Once again, he had a point, but Munkustrap nodded.

"They'd listen to you because you're _my_ brother. They don't have a choice."

"No, they'll listen to _you_..." He stopped for a moment, as if to make sure Munkustrap was listening. "Don't _give_ them a choice."

—

Lying with his mate beside him and their kittens between them, Munkustrap still had yet to mention anything that had been going on since the evening before. Right now he found no need; his wife was happy, and their triplets were resting peacefully, safe from the cold. They both couldn't help giving the bundle soft smiles just from watching them. Tilly seemed to smile and giggle lightly in his sleep.

"Did you see that?" Demeter whispered almost inaudibly. Munkustrap nodded and when Demeter pecked a small kiss on the kitten's head, he grinned again. Every time he opened his round, blue eyes, Demeter was instantly reminded of Munkustrap as much as the tom was reminded of _himself_. Of course, it didn't help that whenever Aéras gave them his big grin, the two could only see Rum Tum Tugger's smile. He seemed to get more rambunctious every day, and Sophitia and Tilikum all the more playful as well. It would only be a matter of time before one or all of them mewed their first real words, be it 'Mama' or 'Dada.'

And then, soon after _that_ , they would be independent; they would have wants and desires of their own... Munkustrap could only imagine what sorts of important, serious, emotional conversations his future with them entailed. There'd be plenty of stories being told; kids asked questions, so there would certainly be some about their grandparents, the heaviside layer... their daddy and uncle's scars. He didn't want either of his sons or daughter to bear any scars—but his own father had said it was a part of life, yet nothing could prepare them for the physical _and_ emotional pain they came with. Each one was a different memory. One they could not abolish, not even when their fur managed to cover it.

Tilly let out a big yawn, and his little eyes fluttered open, the first thing greeting him being his mother and father's kind faces. Munkustrap smiled at him, "Hey, buddy!" He said softly to not wake his siblings. Tilikum waved his paw onto his face, waddling closer until Munkustrap had him in a cradle. "Were you dreaming?" He nuzzled Tilly's nose. "Did you have a good dream?" The kit would not answer, of course, but he looked groggily at his parents, rubbing his eyes.

Demeter carefully leaned over. "You still sleepy?" He whined a little. Munkustrap carefully passed him to Demeter, "I think he's hungry." To test this, she let the kit press his muzzle into her breast, his mouth searched for her nipple and he suckled, not eager to let go. "Yup."

"Probably a growth spurt."

"Both him _and_ Aéras... Sophie hasn't been hungry lately, I've been worried."

"What did Jenny say?"

"She said they'd eat when they're hungry, that I shouldn't panic... but I got used to having a little feeding schedule for them."

"They're already getting their baby teeth."

Demeter nodded. "I'm aware." She'd been bitten more than once by them, though by accident. "Aéras was trying to disembowel one of his toys earlier; poor thing must've been in so much pain."

"Aéras or the toy?" Chuckled the tom, to which Demeter rolled her eyes. Munkustrap tentatively stroked the black kitten's face, "He's tough... it'll pass." The kitten began to purr and Munkustrap felt a narrowly-visible smile peel across his face. He turned to Sophitia, who was clutching her Piper Bear in her arms. He planted a gentle kiss on her head. Getting to return to this scenario, no matter the day's requirements, was what had made everything so worth it – why couldn't it just stay this way? He never wanted his kittens to know he was anxious or upset, for then _they_ would be upset, and he knew what that was like all too well. It was unbearable.

"I just want us to stay in here forever." Munkustrap suddenly whispered. He looked at Demeter, whose peridot eyes glittered with a hint of confusion. "I never want this to end... to hide from everything." Holding Tilikum steady with one arm, she reached out another to place a paw on the tom's shoulder. "I don't know how I'm gonna handle this."

"You mean the tribe?" Munkustrap silently nodded. "What do you mean...?" She immediately knew. "What happened?" She asked, somewhat demandingly.

With a guilty expression, he looked at her, "One of the Copperkits that got away deserted them. He told me that Raithen still wanted to take the tribe... he said that he had some sort of vendetta against my father, but he didn't know about _what_."

"Why didn't you tell me right away?"

"I didn't want you to worry! I'm sorry!" He said, trying to keep his voice quiet. Demeter sighed, looking at the waif at her breast. "Mungojerrie said he and his sister had a history with them... it didn't sound very pleasant. But I'm thinking..." He stopped, not sure what his mate might say.

"You're thinking...?"

"I think I might need him as an advisor. If he knows how they work, then maybe he can help me plan ahead on how to fight them, or _avoid_ fighting them."

Demeter could see the logic in that. "So ask him. What's the problem?"

"It's the others... you know they're petty thieves, so Lord knows they won't take him seriously. On top of that, what'll they think of me when I come to them with all this?"

"It doesn't matter what they think. Do _you_ think that it's right?"

"I— I don't know. That's what I'm trying to figure out."

"It shouldn't be that difficult, Munkustrap." She scolded. "It's simple; does this feel just to you? Does it help you in keeping the tribe safe? If yes, then what anyone else says shouldn't matter."

"Tugger said I shouldn't _give_ them a choice."

"Exactly!" Demeter said, inadvertently raising her voice. She caught herself and hushed. "You and I will be a team no matter what, no matter _where_ we go." She proclaimed, taking his paw, "But everyone else is under _your_ command. If they defy you, you remind them who Old Deuteronomy's son is."

"I can't do that; that's abuse of power."

"It's not if you're trying to protect us." Demeter reminded, knowing that she too wouldn't want to hear the orders of an authoritarian. "If you're so worried about sparing their feelings, then _explain_ to them. They won't follow your lead if they don't understand what your intentions are." Munkustrap couldn't believe how simple the solutions to his anxieties were... all this overthinking he'd been doing when the most practical methods were in front of his face. It had been the lack of sleep and innumerable responsibilities he'd had in mind distracting him from getting any real thinking done. Normally he was better at this.

He truly did have his wife, his Lady to thank. What a fine Lady she will be...


	20. Hug

**Mungojerrie**

The Bengal tom had been in a deep sleep when he heard a voice whisper his name. Eyes opening instantly, he whirled over and twisted his neck around to see Munkustrap peeking into the tent.

"I need you for a moment this morning... In about twenty minutes, meet me in the center of the junkyard." Mungojerrie just blinked at him drowsily. It was too early for him to process anything clearly, but he understood what 'I need you' meant. He sat up and stretched his back, unknowingly reaching over his shoulder to scratch at the cut behind his neck. He forced himself to ignore it and adjusted his collar so that he couldn't mess with it. It had stopped snowing, but the sky and ground were still white. Immaculate, ignoring Munkustrap's fresh paw prints from huddling away. He looked over to his sister to see that she hadn't even noticed him move. He pulled the blanket over her body for extra warmth and quit the abode.

When he crossed the area as he'd been told, he was still wiping the corners of his eyes when he saw the five toms; Munkustrap and his usual council, plus Demeter alongside her mate. If she was about to become Lady of the tribe, then she had to be present at these meetings as well.

A little nervous to approach, he kept himself out of sight and watched, _just_ close enough to listen.

"So if we double the amount of cats on watch, we'll have less to worry about cutting corners and what not, but who here is going to agree to that?" Coricopat was saying.

"If anyone here trusts me, then they'll know that I want to do what's best for the tribe." Munkustrap answered. "It shouldn't be that hard to get Skimble or Admetus on patrol. Just none of the younger toms; they're not prepared to handle an attack."

"And what about your brother? What's _he_ going to be doing once you're leader?" Alonzo asked.

"He's going to be on guard as well; he said he can do night watch and scavenge our food, since I'd rather him be helping with the kittens during the day. Unfortunately, with this unexpected weather, _finding_ said food's going to be a challenge. We have to work together to keep everyone fed." The group nodded in agreeance. Munkustrap looked calmly at Demeter, and then subtly turned his eyes at Mungojerrie, who flinched slightly upon realizing he'd been seen. Munkustrap quickly averted his attention back to the others, "Anyways, the main reason I brought you here is to discuss something... vital." He said, trying to think of the appropriate word. _Close enough_. He started to hesitate, and then Munkustrap got that unsure, wide-eyed look he always did when he was nervous. Mungojerrie knew this would take all day.

He struggled to get a sentence out until Demeter said, "He means in regards to having a head advisor around to keep on top of everything. It'll be hard to keep watch and report everything happening at the same time."

"Yes, _that._ " He cleared his throat. "I know since we were just _kittens_ , we established that we would be a team no matter what, and it's going to stay that way." He reminded, though it looked like the toms were already suspicious of what he was about to say next. His attention was specifically focused on Alonzo, the tom he seemed to _know_ would take the news harshly. With a breath, he said, "But as of this morning, with _much_ consideration... I want to bring a new member into our council. Someone you might not expect, but I ask you all to have an open mind as he persuaded me to..." He turned his eyes at Mungojerrie, who either didn't get the hint that he was calling him over, or just didn't _want_ to. Munkustrap raised his brows, and when the orange and black tom still didn't approach, he lolled his head back and sighed. "Get over here!" He finally shouted.

Mungojerrie twitched and trotted over, nearly slipping on the snow beneath him. Now everyone, besides his future Lord and Lady, looked bewildered. "Yes?" Said the tom, already knowing what was about to happen, only _pretending_ not to be ecstatic about it.

"Mungojerrie, with everything you've told me and with the first-hand knowledge you have on the Copperkits, I've been considering how I'm going to handle the situation. I think you're vital in staying on top of what they might do next." As the tabby spoke, Alonzo's eyes darted resentfully between the Bengal and his best friend. "I want to ask you, here in front of our own colleagues, if you're willing to serve and assist—"

"Wait!" Alonzo finally said. "You're telling me _he's_ going to be in the council? _That_ lout?" Mungojerrie sneered at him, the other two toms kept their eyes to the ground, and even Munkustrap looked shocked.

"Alonzo!" Demeter said, surprised at him.

"Just hear me out, please!" Munkustrap insisted, speaking to him as a friend and not his superior.

"You're going to take the advice of a criminal?"

"At least I admit my own faults." Mungojerrie bit.

"Alonzo," Munkustrap said, standing up, "he risked his life for me just as _any of you_ would have! I trust him, _my father_ trusted him, so you can too!"

For once, Plato seemed to press his lips together and keep his mouth shut. Coricopat nodded. "I'll be honest, I don't mind it. But what's the story with you and the Copperkits?" Asked the Burmese tom.

"There's not really a story." Said Mungojerrie. "My sister and I were taken in after we left Hackney and we had nowhere else to go. All I can say is I learned a lot about how some tribes work to get what they want... God knows I was hoping I'd never see them again." Alonzo still appeared like he didn't want to listen. That was _his_ problem, not Mungojerrie's. "If any of you want to be of service to this tribe, then you'll listen to what I tell you."

"We listen to _Munkustrap_ , our one true protector." Alonzo chided.

"Cut it out." Demeter snapped before Munkustrap could. "I should bang both your heads together and remind you that we're _all_ Jellicle Cats! There's no need to fight amongst ourselves!"

"If we're going to keep everyone here _safe_ , then we'll _work together_." Said the grey tom fiercely. "Is that not our philosophy?" He asserted mostly to Alonzo, who knew he would never betray his trust, though he felt ridiculed this very moment. It's not like he was going back on any promise—he'd told the black-and-white tom that he would always be in his council, but didn't confirm he'd be his chief advisor. Mungojerrie knew that Alonzo would go along with Munkustrap; he might not like _him_ , but he loved his best friend. He had no qualms about whether he 'hurt his feelings' or not, as hateful as it sounded. If he wanted his leader _alive_ , then he'd cooperate. Mungojerrie knew this wouldn't be a burden to them at all, as much as they might complain about it. "Mungojerrie, do you accept this position or do you not?"

"I accept." He said, nodding. _That_ had been easy. When Munkustrap finished giving out everyone's tasks for the day, the group was dismissed and they all dispersed, except for Alonzo who kept Munkustrap behind. He told Demeter to go back to their kittens and it seemed that he still had to talk down his companion over the ordeal, which was really just him being more concerned than angry. The Bengal wondered if he should stay and listen in, but in all honesty, if he wasn't needed, then he didn't care. It was when he turned around directly into Rumpleteazer that he jumped back.

"What were you doing?" She asked petulantly.

"Munkustrap asked me to come to the meeting, says he wants me as an advisor."

Her brows went up, now intrigued. "You're joking!"

"Not at all." He turned back where she saw the two toms still talking, both parties trying to be discreet. "Not everyone's _pleased_ with his decision, but who bloody cares?"

"They'll just have to get used to it." She folded her arms. Munkustrap turned around and left, and Alonzo just happened to turn to walk in the direction of the twins.

"Mate," Alonzo said to Mungojerrie, "I have nothing against you personally, but I don't like what you do." At that, while Mungojerrie had not a single care of his opinion, Rumpleteazer felt attacked. "If I catch you wasting any time instead of looking out for your kind, I'll have you expelled from the group."

"I thought it was _Munkustrap_ that gave the commands." He replied coolly. "I know my place; I certainly hope you remember _yours_."

Alonzo snarled slightly and as Mungojerrie left the scene, Rumpleteazer stayed behind instead of following. He wouldn't hear what his sister had to say _then_ , but once she shared with him her words with the tom, it was clear _why_ she felt she had to remain there. Instead of letting Alonzo stride away, Rumpleteazer lashed at him, darting angrily in front of him.

"What the bloody hell was that for?" Alonzo exclaimed, shocked.

"You don't like 'what we do?' _What. We. Do?_ " She sputtered.

Alonzo sighed as if realizing his error. "I didn't mean it against _you_ —"

"But you insulted my brother right in front of me! Isn't that brutal enough? And is what _we do_ so bad in the grand scheme of things? We steal, sure. But we don't lie! We don't maim! When you mock my brother, you mock _me_ as well!"

Alonzo was taken aback; never did he see such passion in the Bengal queen. He was no less infuriated than he was before, however. "I just don't understand _how_ Munkustrap could let him take such a demanding position."

"You think he's not capable of it? If Munkustrap got the words from Mungojerrie _anyway_ and didn't tell you _where_ he got all this information from, you wouldn't have a single word of complaint, _would you?_ " Alonzo had no answer – she was right. There was something he wanted to know, though.

"What was it like with the Copperkits?"

"Oh, _now_ you want to ask us this?"

"Rumpleteazer, I want to know just what kind of work you did for them."

"It doesn't matter what we did _then_ , nor what we do _now_. What matters is what we _will_ do to keep our words!" She glared at him. She slowly uncrossed her arms and said, "If you wanted to be Munkustrap's chief advisor so bad, then you should be able to tell when someone's dangerous or not... when someone's _lying_ right to your face because they want something from you!"

"And you think that's not easy to tell?"

"Is it not?" Rumpleteazer cocked her head to the side. "Want to hear what it was like for us there in Hammersmith?" She paused briefly. "We were strays like we are now... petty thieves like we are _now_... only we weren't very good at it... we were going to starve if we didn't find somewhere safe to stay, and there was no way we'd go back to our humans just so they could ignore us some more! No, we were done being their pets for show, to show everyone what fine, purebreds we are. We had so much more to offer, nothing _humans_ could appreciate. When we got to Hammersmith, my brother and I managed to steal some food right off an outdoor diner table and no one saw a thing. A cat came crawling by and saw us and asked us if we could do it again. We did, only this time, he asked if we'd like to put our skills to better use and not have to worry about going hungry anymore. He was a Copperkit; he told us that if we served the tribe, we would always have a home to go to and food in our bellies, and the best part? My brother and I would never have to worry about getting separated." She smiled slightly, but quickly lost it. "But as time went by, where all we did was steal, spy on other stray cats and send word back to the Copperkits, Mungojerrie and I became nervous... they had funny little ways of dealing with their problems, ways that we found harder and harder to ignore... So when we decided that we needed to leave, I made up a plan. I would slip some poppy milk into the leader's drink since I was in charge of bringing his food and water, and once he was asleep, we would run... only he found out and ensured me that if I ever tried it again I would sleep forever... but I _knew_ I'd get caught. So when he came to me, accusing me of something so heinous, I began to cry. How on earth could he blame me? My brother and I would never! But I know someone who would... someone who's been coming and going from the area for days now."

The queen went on, "Indeed, that cat _was_ a threat, but for different reasons. I was just doing what I had to so that my brother and I would be able to escape... It's a boon having such a sweet face; no one ever suspects me. When he brought in that cat and they were finished giving him his punishment, my brother and I were given the opportunity to leave the city and spy on another tribe... the Jellicle Tribe... only we never intended to come back." She said, looking at him. Alonzo's expressions changed throughout her spiel, unable to believe what she was capable of... and how sincere she had been. "We found a new home, instead... a real one."

She grinned and so did Alonzo, not able to help it.

Rumpleteazer, still smiling, said, "Which part of that was true and which part of that was a lie?"

Alonzo's face slowly fell, his voice clumsily let out a flat, "What?"

"Do you think _every word I said_ was true?" Alonzo said nothing. "There's a reason why Mungojerrie's in your council now... _he_ would know before I'd even finished... if you want to serve your tribe, you'd ask him for some lessons." Finally, feeling as though she'd smited him, Rumpleteazer walked away from the Turkish Angora.

* * *

 **Rum Tum Tugger**

"Eight... seven... six... five... four... three... two... one!" Tugger turned around and saw all three kittens were nowhere to be found. Perfect. "Ready or not, Mummy and Daddy and I are coming!"

"You're _sure_ this is a good way to teach them how to hide?" Asked Munkustrap.

"Of course! Tell them to play hide-and-seek, they'll know not to come out."

"I kind of like this plan." Demeter admitted, sniffing around for the kittens that couldn't have gone far. "Do they know to hide _together?_ "

"I hope so." Already Munkustrap was getting flustered. "Tugger, I don't know if I like this. I don't like it when they're out of sight!"

"Calm down. You'll thank me when a hawk can't snatch them away because they're hiding."

"Please never say that again!" He sputtered. The Maine Coon could already smell them; they were underneath a blanket. Clever enough, though anything that chased whatever moved would instantly spot their wriggling shapes.

Tugger yanked the blanket off and they all scrambled on top of him. "Ha! Found you!" He couldn't help laugh as they piled onto his lap; only Sophitia crawling away to find her mother and beg her to be picked up. "You happy now, bro—?" He was cut off by Aéras' paw slapping onto his face.

"Much!" He said and reached over to pick up his two boys.

Demeter ran over and grabbed the blanket. "I need that, actually! My God, they're so cold!" She instantly wrapped Sophitia in it, though the kitten was more confused than anything. She wanted the freedom to move around and play! Munkustrap sat down with her, though instead of letting their mother shield them from the cold, Tilikum stayed in his father's hold while Aéras tried to coerce his sister over to play. The kittens had only begun to babble in little baby talk, but were far from emitting anything that sounded close to words, still mewing and wailing.

The black and tawny kit tried to wander away, but Tugger called to him, "Hey, can I get a hug?" He knew just how to get the rambunctious kit's attention. Though he looked at him inquisitively, all the Maine Coon had to do was hold his arms out and the little one came prancing forward, nearly knocking him back with his mighty pounce. Demeter cooed and Munkustrap grinned. "Yeah, a hug for your favorite uncle?"

"You mean his _only_ uncle!" Munkustrap corrected jokingly.

Tugger kissed the side of Aéras' head. "I'd still be the favorite." Suddenly the tortie wriggled free and ran a short distance again. "What's he doing?" He looked at Tugger with an expectant smile. He thought it was a game! Tugger reached for him, "Hug?" And on cue, Aéras charged over again with a more powerful leap into his arms. That time the tom was almost knocked off his bottom.

"Getting strong!" Munkustrap said, bouncing Tilly.

"He's a cuddle baby like you were." Tugger replied.

"So is this one." Munkustrap leaned down to kiss the silver kitten's cheek, earning a tickled grin. "Aren't you?" Sophitia finally escaped from Demeter's arms and nudged on her brothers, swishing her tail. They hopped outside into the snow, eager to play in it some more. It wasn't deep enough to lose them in, and they knew not to leave their family's scents. The adults allowed it.

Tilikum, however, got tired shortly and ran to Demeter, who _knew_ that it was time for his nap. Munkustrap smiled at them and then went back to watching his two older ones play. "I can't believe what little personalities they have." He said somewhat to himself. "Soon they're gonna be having conversations with each other... living in their own little society we're not a part of." He chortled.

"Don't say that." Demeter whispered, getting Tilly comfortable. "They'll be saying 'I love you' back to us sooner than we think." She nuzzled her kitten.

Munkustrap noted, "It's good that they move around more now, they sleep through the night!"

Tugger observed the kits with his brother, just as enamored by their growth, how amazed they were by everything... how innocent they were. He understood Munkustrap's want to keep the world new and magical to them for as long as possible. They wouldn't be kittens forever, but they could make it last, unlike _their own_ kittenhoods.

"Tugger," Munkustrap said, casting him out of his thoughts, "I want you at the meeting next week."

"All right, what for?"

"Just in case Mungojerrie has anything new to say... I want us _all_ to hear it. Nothing's been scented, and no one's found anything strange lying around, but I want us to get to a point where we're not so paranoid."

 _"I'm_ not paranoid." Tugger interjected.

"Okay, maybe _I_ am." He confessed.

"We're all a little nervous." Demeter said before Tugger could anything else. "But getting overworked isn't going to help. _No one's_ so evil as to hurt a kitten."

"That cat that threw you down was!"

"He pushed me out the way and I _fell_ ; he didn't _throw_ me to the ground..." She shuddered, preferring not to think about it. "I worry for the kittens too, but the only way anything will touch them is over my dead body."

"That's what I'm trying to _avoid_ , Demeter!"

"Bro." Tugger grabbed his wrist, seeing him get flustered again. Now wasn't the time; they were finally all happy and relaxed for once. These moments were so short-lived, and it pained Rum Tum Tugger to see his brother, who was now a _father_ , this way. Old Deuteronomy would at least reassure him... that he felt sure of, but he wasn't here. Perhaps he, his little brother, could fill in. "Everything's fine right now. Just don't panic until it's _time_ to."

"I don't know _when_ it'll be time to." He said more fervently. "And that's what makes me afraid."

"Then don't be afraid of it! Just _be ready_ for it." Insisted the maned tom, rising up from his laxed position. Munkustrap look no less uptight, and turning to Demeter, she couldn't offer anything different than what Tugger had said. He bit his lip, sighing. "You're doing everything you can right now. I wish you'd stop beating yourself up." He saw that Munkustrap was thinking of something, something dour... but this time it was more... skeptical. Something even _Tugger_ might not know about if he spoke about it.

He didn't want to even _care_ about such matters. It was snowing, and it was beautiful. The kittens were full of life and jovial; their mother and father should be too. Tugger scooted behind Munkustrap and took his arms, holding them out wide. "What are you—?"

"Hey, Aéras! Sophie!" The kits' ears perked up and they looked over. "Hug!" At once, they _both_ stampeded over in a race to embrace their father. This time, their opponent _was_ knocked back, head landing on Demeter's lap and instantly, he was smiling once again as they kissed and nuzzled him.


	21. Recruits

**Mungojerrie**

Where could Mungojerrie even _begin_ with the Copperkits, where could he _end_ _?_ He was sorting out what was efficient to share with his court and what wasn't. What would be useful and what was throwaway information? Not even Rumpleteazer could spare him an iota of advice – he was trying to avoid involving her as much as possible namely to keep her from reliving those painful memories. He only remembered every small detail because he _knew_ he would need them to survive... Rumpleteazer just wanted to keep marching on, and so she did. He admired her for that.

If only he could let go. There were some days where all he wanted was for the past to die, but that was impossible. Granted, if he _were_ to forget it, he wouldn't have learned anything, and Munkustrap would be neck-deep in the water without his expertise. It was good to remember the tribe. The pasture. The well... The barn. Lord if he could wipe anything from his memory, he'd be torn between the last two. The images that he'd spared his sister from made it easy to remember _why_ he had to know to respond to blatant lies or underhanded threats. If it weren't for his tact and his sister's fake politeness, then they wouldn't have made it out as easily as they did if at all.

Enough meandering! Go back. What's the first thing he could remember? Well, in a _literal_ sense, that would be the smell of rain. A horrid downpour in East London where he and his sister, nothing more than helpless kittens and only survivors of their litter, sat under the storm drain and held their mouths open for a drink. Even _then_ they were resourceful. Their mother was not around, and the identity of their _father_ remained a mystery, but it had no purpose to them. This _memory_ had no purpose.

No, _go forward_. Past the time they were brought in a blanket to the shelter, past the two elderly folks that 'were smitten by them' and adopted them. Past the running away, past the food heists. There. The twins were but seventeen-year-old teenagers when they were 'recruited' by a smokey-grey Russian Blue. He'd been impressed at how well they pulled off stealing someone else's dinner so that they could go to bed full. His name was Mosstail; at least that's what he told them. Mungojerrie hadn't even cared about what he was saying until he told them they could sleep somewhere warm if they followed him.

The idea was too enticing to ignore.

The agog Bengals were taken to the pasture in which the cats had taken up residence. It was an old farmhouse that, after its inheritor abandoned it to live a more modern lifestyle, was refurbished and tidied up by this homeless bunch. So rarely were these seen in more urban environments... but the Bengal twins were indeed no longer _in_ an urban neighborhood.

 _"I've a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore!"_ Rumpleteazer had quoted as a joke, but none of the Copperkits understood. The first thing the twins were greeted with was a meal of newly-caught rats, to which they didn't even _pretend_ to have manners when feasting on. Oh how they missed their live catches!

"So, you're twins, ey?" Asked Mosstail.

"Yes." Rumpleteazer swallowed, "I'm the older one. The _better_ one." She smirked at Mungojerrie, whose mouth was still full.

"And you walked here all the way from _Hackney?_ "

"It wasn't much of a walk. It was more of us wandering about just going in whatever direction for days on end. All that mattered was that we could survive, and that we were together." She explained. Mungojerrie preferred to let _her_ do the talking since she was better in dealing with 'being nice' to people.

"And what made you strays? Were you kicked out?"

"We ran away." She wiped her mouth. "Our owners neglected us; treated us like trophies instead of taking care of us. They somehow expected us to still be obedient." She scoffed.

"And what are those pearls around your neck?"

"A nice little trinket I took as a keepsake... reminder of what we can do when humans aren't looking." She arched a brow and saw Mungojerrie was still digging in; he'd never _been_ so hungry! She cleared her throat somewhat loudly to signal him to stop. He halted and wiped his paws.

"Interesting... have you two ever _heard_ of our tribe?" They both shook their heads. "Well, we're a small bunch. As you can see, there's not enough of us to even _call ourselves_ a tribe! I guess that's because we're, you could say, _selective_ about whom we allow in. You're both fine-looking, you both can _hunt_ , and on top of that, you know what it means to _survive_... I think our leader will like that."

The siblings looked at each other peculiarly, and then turned back to him. Mungojerrie asked, "Who's your leader?"

"We call him Raithen. He's been a stray longer than any one of us! He knows the brutality of the streets, and I'm sure he'll be impressed by you two."

"What makes you say _that_ _?_ " Said Mungojerrie inquisitively.

"I've heard of the term _cat_ burglar before, but never did I believe I'd see real ones for myself! I think you two could come in handy in helping us gather our food. _You'd_ get your helpings too, of course."

"You're saying none of you hunt?" Asked Rumpleteazer.

"We do... but most of us are aging and lagging in our efforts. You're both young. Swift, in good shape! It would be beneficial for us all to give you a home here." Under the table, Rumpleteazer squeezed Mungojerrie's paw, giving him a sign that he ought to listen up. He let his ears perk up stiff to cue her that he got her message. "But the final word won't be from me. Let me speak to Raithen and I'll be back for you shortly." They both nodded and the tom proceeded out of the room.

The twins put their heads together so they could whisper. Rumpleteazer said, "What do you think about all of this?"

"As far as I'm concerned, we _need_ a place to stay. It'll be better for us to have shelter and food on a regular basis! We won't be getting hungry or sick all the time!"

"He doesn't give you any _weird_ vibes...?" There she went again with the 'vibes.'

"Weird vibes or not, we need to be _practical_. Didn't he just say we know how to survive? _This_ is how."

"But you're _sure_ that—"

"I'm not sure of _anything_. All I can say is if they mean what they're telling us, then we'll have it better than we've had for a while!" Before he could say anything else, the door opened and they sat up straight. In came the naked Sphynx cat himself; one eye already going bad from infection, though he had more of his teeth at the time. He wasn't a pretty sight to the Bengals, but he smiled and they couldn't help but smile back.

"Ah, what _beautiful_ coats!" He gushed, "So strong in the color, _gorgeous_ in the pattern." Rumpleteazer blushed and Mungojerrie tipped his head. "I don't want you thinking I'm buttering you up or anything like that—it's just you two are simply _marvelous_ to behold!"

Rumpleteazer flattened her ears, soaking up the compliments, and Mungojerrie chuckled, "It's funny because our _owners_ said almost the same exact things. All they cared about was our looks and that we were purebreds. I guess it was all right because it gave us a home when we were small."

"I see... Humans can be superficial, can't they? We're not companions like _dogs_ , just there for show. Pfft! What folly. Cats, unlike dogs, can do _just_ as well on their own as they can under human care. No wonder they have to be chained up."

"I'm amazed they didn't chain _us_ up." Rumpleteazer grinned. "We were a little _naughty_ even before we got to sneaking away and hiding." Mungojerrie didn't mind the small talk, so long as his sister was handling it, but he was anxious to get down to business. Would they have a home or _wouldn't_ they? How did he ask without cutting them off?

Fuck it. "Will we be staying here or will we be going?"

 _"Jerrie."_ Scolded Rumpleteazer, but Raithen only snorted.

"You're straight to the point, I like that. I don't want to trouble either of you, but it's not so much about lending you the space as it is _ensuring_ we'll be able to assist each other." Mungojerrie leaned forward to show he was listening. "I believe Mosstail already gave you an idea? We could really use some sharp hunters around here to help us get back on track with food supply. There's plenty to find around here, but with your skills in stealing from humans, we should have more variety than before!"

"It could give us a chance to get better at it as well." Mungojerrie said, thinking aloud.

Raithen nodded and lifted his tail, "I like the way you think." The toms had come to an agreement, it appeared, which relieved the she-cat sitting there with them. "I can presume you're both exhausted and haven't slept anywhere with blankets or pillows in weeks. I'll show you to where you'll be staying for now, and tomorrow we can go over our terms some more." The twins, of course, had no complaint, and they slept more heavily, more comfortably than ever that night.

—

The day after, Raithen was courteous enough to have Mosstail bring the twins their breakfast once they were up. Canned chicken formula cat food; how long had it been since they had _anything_ wet? They ate happily and cleaned their teeth with some spare rat bones before proceeding out to the field. Indeed, there were not many cats, and even when they tried to approach or introduce themselves, they'd either bow their heads or turn to walk away. It didn't make any sense to them—they appeared as though they _wanted_ to say something, but opted not to. Rumpleteazer couldn't shake her weird feelings about it, but she also understood that if she wanted a place to stay, she'd have to play along and smile through it.

Mungojerrie was only concerned about what they'd be doing, how they could show them what they were capable of and that they were _worth_ their time and space. When they found Mosstail, he grinned kindly at them, "Ah, good morning. Have you slept well?"

"Better than we _would_ have if you hadn't brought us here." Rumpleteazer said. Mungojerrie had to applaud her acting skills. She didn't exactly _want_ to be nice for the sake of niceness, but it was required to get people on their side. She was killing it.

"Wonderful! I'm sorry to say that Raithen is a little out of sorts this morning, so he won't be able to show you around the area like he planned."

"Oh no!" She grimaced, "Is he all right?"

"Just a little sickly; it happens regularly what with the bacterial— erm, sorry, that's a bit private. Anyhow, he managed to arrange for someone else to give you a tour instead." He turned around towards two toms chatting, "Axel!" He called. A Serengeti cat with big, yellow eyes came trotting over. He was lithe and well-postured. "These are our new recruits. Beg pardon, but I didn't quite get your names."

"Mungojerrie."

"Rumpleteazer."

"Axel." Introduced he. "I'm pleased to meet you both." Mungojerrie turned and saw his sister scanning the details of his coat, mesmerized. He too seemed taken by her, "I must say, Raithen was not exaggerating when he said you two were positively beautiful."

"He's too kind, really!" Rumpleteazer blushed. Mungojerrie's eyes narrowed.

Axel said, "We see all kinds of exotic breeds around here, but you two _still_ manage to stand out." Mosstail left them, apparently no longer interested in the conversation, or because he wasn't needed at this time. "Anyhow, I won't waste any of your time. Let me show you what we've got in our territory, where the perimeters are, all that good stuff."

"How long have you been with them?" Asked the queen.

"Three years, give or take. I was never a housepet and I don't remember my family, but somewhere along the way I came across Raithen and he let me be his border patrol."

"Interesting." She replied.

Mungojerrie stepped forward, "So, the tour?" He said eagerly.

"Oh yes, right!" The statuesque tom led and they followed. He enthusiastically showed them each area where the cats all dined or had chats, where they kept the herbs for tea in a makeshift greenhouse. Axel kept looking back at Rumpleteazer as if Mungojerrie was invisible; he noted the details of her face, how they exuded warmth and a delicate grace, including a sprinkling of freckles across her nose. Mungojerrie would ask him to press on with the tour should Axel suddenly stop and go off-topic about anything.

In the corner of the back fence was where the alder tree was. Mungojerrie had been the one to notice the well beneath it; how the path leading to it was overgrown with weeds, dried and brown from summer weather. It looked almost forsaken; the one piece of the pasture that was left unattended. It would be a lie to say he wasn't curious about why it was so downtrodden compared to everything else in the area, and the tom would sometimes wander around there looking to see what it had to offer. It was quite the sight to have grass stretching on to the horizon, only to look up and see London's tall buildings not too far off. His owners always called this place a funny little city with funny weather.

Once he got familiar with the well, Mungojerrie was struck by something _else_ that neither he nor his sister were permitted to enter. The barn. The door was kept shut tight with a padlock and the walls were thick with dust and mold. It couldn't be healthy for anyone to be living in there. Maybe _that's_ why it was locked. Good thinking, thought he.

He and his sister were there for three days before they saw Raithen again. As it had been before, they were each other's only company until that point, though Teazer had been eager to get to know Axel a little bit more, which Mungojerrie would dissuade however he could, insisting they wait until they were sure they'd be accepted in before she 'got familiar' with anybody. "Apologies for my absence! I caught an awful bug and didn't want it to spread." Said the Sphynx, "I trust you two are adjusting comfortably?"

Rumpleteazer answered, "Of course."

"Have my compeers been hospitable to you?"

"Absolutely." She replied again.

"Marvelous!"

"We've done a bit of walking around." Mungojerrie began, "We went by the alder tree and the old barn."

Raithen's ears flattened, "You mean you saw the well?"

"Yes..." Mungojerrie said, now confused. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, lad. Just be mindful of how close you get; three cats have fallen in by sheer accident." Mungojerrie wanted to ask more, but he saw the look on Rumpleteazer's face and decided not to press the subject any further. The very concept of death gave her a chill. Granted, Raithen didn't _say_ that they died, though he got the impression that he was implying it. "As for the barn, we keep it locked because it's infested with vermin that's too sick for us to eat. Don't need anyone getting bit."

"I suspected something of the like."

"No worries—it's only normal for a cat to explore, though it's also normal for a cat to get themselves into trouble for doing it. I was young once, about a century ago." Rumpleteazer tried to stifle a laugh, fearing it'd be rude even though he _intended_ it as a joke. Mungojerrie began to feel more at ease with the bald tom; for the first time in days, he let his shoulders loosen. "I will say, I'd like you two to have some time to consider your offer before you make a decision. Our deal is that as long as you serve us, helping us gather food and rationing when needed, you can stay."

"Sounds pretty straight-forward. Is there no catch?"

"No. None in particular unless you count hunting not only for yourselves but _others_ as well an extra burden."

"It's not a burden at all!" Interjected the queen. "We will follow any instruction given."

"Won't we basically be doing what we've _been_ doing all this time?" Mungojerrie asked instead. "Except now we're feeding _more_ than just ourselves?"

"Don't think of it _that_ way!" Said he, "Now you'll be working for profit! You'll always have a home to return to, and twice the amount of portions you were relying on before! Plus, you won't be all on your own. I intend to send Mosstail and Axel on their own hunts to increase the amount we have out on the field."

Mungojerrie realized he'd misunderstood. "I see."

Raithen grinned, his bad eye squinting up more than it already was, "I'm glad we've got that sorted out. Once you think you're ready, come to me and I'll send you on your first job."

—

The twins adapted to their new home at a rapid pace. It was easy for them to become accustomed to the usual streets and shops they were sent to rob, as well as the company of the unusual clan. They had still only made conversation with a pawful of the Copperkits, since only a pawful _spoke_ to them! Mosstail explained to them that some were required to take a vow of silence – it was not an act of shame, but of respect, submitting themselves to their superiors as what _they_ had to say would never be as important. Rumpleteazer quietly told Mungojerrie that she didn't like that idea at all. Mungojerrie, meanwhile, was in awe of their discipline. To not speak a single word by _choice_. He couldn't imagine what would happen if he or his sister tried.

The Bengal twins were making great progress in their thievery; moving up from small diners to upscale restaurants and high-end markets, sometimes taking more than what they needed because they could. That of course brought no words of complaint from Raithen. He was grateful to have the extra supply. Oftentimes, Mungojerrie would come up with a plan if they happened upon the area during working hours—he would send Rumpleteazer to act like an injured stray, mewling in pain and crying desperately in the language only humans could understand them in. They would always run out and see what was wrong, and though she ensured they never picked her up to try and take her, she kept them distracted long enough for Mungojerrie to hop inside the open door and make his move.

When they _weren't_ out on their heists, the twins spent their leisure time fairly comfortably; some of the Copperkits were curious to know about their lives with the humans, as well as what 'film' was. They'd clearly been strays their entire lives! Humorous to say, if the twins hadn't been living with film critics and watching so many movies, they never would've been as good at analyzing people, their behaviors, their motivations and actions as they were. There was a reason Rumpleteazer became so good at reading emotions and mimicking the appropriate behavior at the appropriate time.

They'd seen classics, noir, westerns, foreign-language, musicals, even horror. In their owners' mansion, they had a home theater in which the cats would occupy themselves in when they left them alone during their visits to film festivals and premieres. It became more like a ritualistic study than a lazy little activity; they recognized acting and filmmaking as an art, and wanted to test their abilities in predicting the outcomes and making sense of it all.

One movie the Bengals were discussing quietly together was _The Elephant Man_ , a David Lynch film. The old man was fond of his directing style, though Mungojerrie found it a bit pretentious at times. They were talking of how said elephant man's deformities mirrored that of Raithen's, though to a more severe extent. Raithen was not as shocking or unsightly, but every time Rumpleteazer gazed upon him, she wanted to shudder. There was just something... off. And it wasn't from physical features alone, but in mannerisms.

The elephant man was a refined gentleman... Raithen had the _guise_ of one, at least the queen had a sneaking suspicion of it. She knew fake when she saw it, she'd be an imbecile to _not_ recognize her own craft! Still, they were _both_ clever enough to realize that if they didn't play nice, they'd be back on the streets again. And they were now cleaner, safer, and fuller than ever. Finally, they were starting to build some muscle again! The teenagers were quite underweight for their size and age, and it seemed malnutrition would've had its way with them since they were just now starting to see some growth in each other.

Mungojerrie admitted sometimes he'd miss the music. The humans had a piano in their house, and they were very fond of only the best! When Axel overheard them talking about it and asked them which piece they'd like to hear, they both said that they had the longing for Chopin's _Prelude in E-minor_. The Serengeti tom hurriedly requested that one of the stewards find the station on their haggard radio so they could hear it... and they were successful!

"Are you fond of the piano?" Axel asked, specifically looking at Rumpleteazer when he did, despite he was addressing both Bengals. They were sitting down having tea together.

" _I_ like it, yes." She flashed a dazzling smile, "But we've listened to quite the collection."

"You could say we're snobs." Mungojerrie snorted.

"Having taste doesn't make you a snob in the slightest. I can only _wish_ I was so well-versed in music and film. I don't know very much about human culture, as you can tell."

"And we don't know much about yours!" The she-cat answered. "So strays are often called 'free felines?'"

"Formally, yes. Stray is more common, but sometimes it can be a bit derogatory depending on how one uses it."

" _You_ don't find it offensive, do you?" She asked.

"Of course, not no! Why would I be insulted by being referred to what I've been my entire life?"

Mungojerrie's brow perked up in intrigue. "Are you from here?"

"You mean here in England?"

"I mean _here_ , Hammersmith."

"Oh," Axel's voice dipped slightly, "I, I'm embarrassed to say that I don't remember. I do remember my mother, my brothers and sisters, their scents... but my memory's a bit spotty. The earliest I can go back perhaps is about maybe eight years old. I was on my own at that point, though I kept close to a market where the vendors were kind enough to feed me scraps. Otherwise I was busy digging around the mud to find rats or moles. As for how I got here, well, I happened to wander in, not knowing it was someone else's territory. I thought I'd be slaughtered, but instead, they offered me a job as border patrol. One thing led to another and now here I am with you two!"

Mungojerrie tilted his head a fraction, "It seems Raithen's very generous towards the less fortunate. Can you tell us anything about _him_ _?_ "

"Not all that much. If I'm honest, he doesn't share many personal things with anybody, not even Mosstail, and he's his closest confidant!" The siblings shrugged in unison. "I presume we're _all_ entitled to privacy."

"With humans, you get none!" Rumpleteazer scoffed, "For how little attention they paid us, they sure liked to dictate our every move!" Mungojerrie nodded in agreement, finishing his cup. "It's a shame what we did to their antique vase after we got a bit cranky from hunger." Her shoulders jolted in a snicker.

"It's a cryin' shame." Axel nodded, "Such a wonderful, enjoyable pair as yourselves to have been put through such..." He trailed off, once again Mungojerrie noticed he was looking straight at his sister, forgetting he was even in the room, "Such... what's the word?"

"Neglect?" She suggested, cheeks glowing pink.

Axel smiled, "Yes! Indeed."

Without either one noticing, Mungojerrie bit his lip in a sneer and rolled his eyes. To him, that conversation had gotten them nowhere. He'd been aching to figure out what the deal was with this tribe. If they had more cats, then there'd be less to worry about when it came to food. The area was big enough to hold more than a dozen. Why was Raithen so particular? Even today he wasn't entirely sure of what made him and Rumpleteazer stand out aside from being good thieves. It bothered him and it did not. He was content, yet he felt he needed to be doing something else with his time besides waiting to get orders from his superior.

Rumpleteazer, all the while, enjoyed Axel's company, to which Mungojerrie felt nothing but chagrin. Her spending time with him wasn't the issue, but rather the thought that he could have something else in mind while they were chatting or walking together. He noticed that, bizarrely, wherever Axel (and therefore Rumpleteazer) went, Mosstail was not far away keeping an eye on them. It _was_ his job to monitor everybody, but he paid _special_ attention to those two. When it was just _him_ and his sister, he never felt the presence of the Russian Blue.

Sometimes when Mungojerrie saw them together, he'd knock something over or slam a door just to interrupt whatever conversation they were having or call Teazer away for 'another job.' Other times, if he wasn't succumbing to his undisclosed jealousy, he'd simply let them be. He didn't care to figure out _why_ he felt the way he did, he didn't care about the _why_ of anything. In all honesty, Mungojerrie knew what irked him so about seeing his sister spend so much time with another tom; up until now, _he_ had been the only tom in her life... it only made sense that she was struck dumb by a new face giving her so much flattery and attention. Mungojerrie would easily feel the same if a queen flirted with him, though _here_ , there were few to none. In fact, his sister just might _be_ the only one he'd seen roaming freely about the field.

Concedingly, however, the teenaged tom became increasingly annoyed with Axel taking up his sister's time, and Rumpleteazer had thought it was because _he_ hadn't gotten to befriend anyone here yet. She insisted that he spend some time with him so they could become better companions... he didn't like that at all. As soon as Axel asked Mungojerrie to have tea with him privately, he took on a sullen expression and _knew_ this was his sister's doing.

He even put the radio onto the classical station again, though there was no Chopin today, but Jules Massenet. _Le Cid: Andalouse: II. Andalouse_. "Such funny titles." Axel commented, trying to make conversation.

"It's a ballet." Mungojerrie said succinctly.

"Are you fond of ballet?"

"I've not seen many." He replied, focusing more on his drink than the cat before him.

"Your sister has a liking for many plays and films! She says she's also fond of opera."

"I know." How could he _not_ know what his own sister liked?

Axel sputtered, "All I mean is she has exquisite taste! I'm sure yours is just as interesting." At that point, Mungojerrie was only inclined to respond with inscrutable looks and gestures. Axel didn't know whether he was being mocked or not. "You've both earned a place here in the tribe... that means we should _all_ be friends." He insisted politely.

"I didn't come here to make friends, Axel." He said, putting his cup down. "My sister and I are only here because we were desperate for a place to live. If I'd known she'd become so _friendly_ with you, I would've remained homeless for five more years."

"I didn't mean to offend you. I don't mean any harm to you _or_ Rumpleteazer. I really _do_ want to get to know you." He affirmed clearly. Mungojerrie would be touched if he didn't have so much resentment for him slowly but surely taking his sister, his only source of comfort, love, and protection his entire life so far, away from him.

"Did she tell you about the movie _The Godfather_?" At that, Axel shook his head, baffled by the subject change. "Well, let me tell you something about it. In it, there's a character named Sonny Corleone, and he has a sister, Connie. Connie's married to Carlo Rizzi. So keep in mind, Sonny is Connie's brother, and Connie is married to Carlo. The Corleones are a _powerful_ family in crime, kind of like the modern-day Borgias, though less screwy... anyway, when Carlo marries in, he's pissed that he doesn't get all the prestige and information his wife does in the business they do, so he takes it out on her by cheating on her and beating her. Her father can't do anything about it because in _his_ tradition, the father doesn't mess with the daughter's marriage... but Sonny," Mungojerrie simpered, "Sonny goes over to see her one day to find her all beaten and bruised... so what does he do? He goes out and finds Carlo, beats the everlasting shit out of him until he understands what'll happen _next_ if he touches his sister again..."

Mungojerrie went dead silent, even the radio had lost its signal. Axel was chilled, but calm. He understood that, as her brother, he only wanted to set boundaries... and in all honesty, there was no way the Bengal could take on a cat as athletic as he was, though he admired his will.

The adolescent leaned forward and quietly hissed, " _Here's_ all you have to know about me, mate. You harm a single hair on my sister's head and I'll strangle you in your sleep." He'd said enough. He pushed the chair back and proceeded to the door... and when Rumpleteazer asked Axel how it went, he told her that they had a pleasant conversation.


	22. Lacrimosa

**Mungojerrie**

The mysteriousness of the barn was becoming ever so enticing to the young tom, so much that he found himself getting a little closer every time he happened to walk by it. It was one overcast day that Mungojerrie happened to notice that there were some cracks in the wood big enough for him to peek through. It made no difference, it was too dark to see anything of note. But there was _something_ , a shape... too big to be a rat, too small to be a cat. He pressed his face against the opening, straining his eyes as much as he could—

"Curiosity killed the cat, you know."

"Ah!" Mungojerrie whirled around to see _Raithen_ of all cats standing there. "Uh— I wasn't trying to... um..."

"No worries. Just try not to breathe in too much of the dust. Stir crazy?"

"No. Just poking around to see if anything's amiss." He said, lazily making up an excuse.

"Could you come with me for a moment, lad? There's something I want to chat with you about." The Sphynx then led him back to the farmhouse, only this time he permitted him to follow all the way to his own quarters. The radio was on; it sounded like a live-recording of an opera performance.

 _What Power art thou,_  
 _Who from below,_  
 _Hast made me rise,_  
 _Unwillingly and slow,_  
 _From beds of everlasting snow?_

When Raithen opened the door, Mungojerrie's eyes went big. Lavish furniture and well-polished decor... he believed for a second that he was back at his old mansion! Was _he_ the only one allowed to sit on something that looked so comfy? How on earth did they keep them in such condition?

"Come on, have a seat." Invited he, and Mungojerrie hesitantly complied, still taking in everything with bewilderment. "Any tea for you this morning?"

"Oh, um. Yes, please." He took the cup placed in front of him and handed it to Raithen to pour. It was always a different concoction with this family—not once had he tasted the same flavor twice.

"Cheers." Raithen said, slurping.

 _See'st thou not how stiff, how stiff,_  
 _And wondrous old,_  
 _Far unfit to bear the bitter cold._

Mungojerrie nodded; everything was so... dashing. He saw a painting on the wall... it was rather off-putting, but he nevertheless felt drawn to it. Raithen's ears went up when he saw him admiring it.

"Ah! I see you noticed the painting. Jules-Elie Delaunay made that one."

"It's very... _macabre_." Said Mungojerrie, still fixated.

Raithen moved so that he too could look while they spoke, "This piece is called _Ixion Plunged into Hades_... Are you into Greek mythology?"

Mungojerrie came out of his trance and shook his head, "Oh, n-no sir!" He replied, laughing a little.

"Ha! Not many cats are. I understand. You see, Ixion was the king of the Lapiths. Some believe he was the son of Ares or Antion... I'm not entirely sure which. Anyhow, he was married to Dia, the daughter of Deioneus, and he promised him a reward in return for such a bride. However—"

Mungojerrie interrupted; he didn't care the least bit. "Apologies, Raithen, but I'd like to know why it is you've brought me here."

"You're a tom of business. As am I." He grinned, "Don't worry, I like that you're plainspoken. More cats ought to be in this world." He sipped from his cup. "It's a matter of your position here."

Mungojerrie's heart skipped a beat. "Am I not performing well?"

"Oh, no! You and your sister are wonderful. I've never had such comfort in my life to know my compeers are being fed."

"So what is it, then?"

"I'd like to ask a new favor of you... the reason I brought you here alone and without your sister is because this job might be... particularly risky. And while I'm _sure_ your sister could take care of herself, I've a feeling you're more cut-out for these sorts of endeavors."

"Like what?" Inquired the Bengal. God, would he stop being so cryptic?

 _I can scarcely move,_  
 _Or draw my breath,_  
 _I can scarcely move,_  
 _Or draw my breath!_

"Well, mate, it seems we as a tribe have had a bit of a problem. Normally I don't involve anyone outside my council in this, but we could use the extra help in getting to the bottom of this. There's a _gent_ , you see, that's been prowling around the perimeters, eyeing the place with great interest. Last time I saw him here, I noticed he brought a few other toms before my boys scared him off... you understand why I have concerns, don't you?"

"You think he intends to steal your territory."

"Exactly, my lad."

"Are you asking me to find them and deliver a message or something?" He said, snorting a little.

"Oh, no. I'm asking you to bring me one of them so I can give him a message myself. I'd go, but my health hasn't been at its finest... you're young and fit, and I'm sure with just _one_ partner at your side, you bring him here with no trouble."

"I'm not exactly a _combatant_ , Raithen. I don't think I can drag him here by force."

"I didn't think so, either! But what about your other skills?" He quirked a brow.

Mungojerrie understood what he was getting at. "Heh. I suppose I can persuade the bloke. I'll tell my sister—"

"Oh, no! I don't want a lady involved in such nasty work. Please, ask Mosstail. He's been a little antsy and in need of some exercise." Mungojerrie's ears went low, but he wouldn't deny what seemed to be blatant orders from his superior.

"Can I at least tell her I'll be going for a bit?"

"Do as you will, just spare her the details, if you would."

 _Let me, let me,_ _let me,_  
 _Freeze again..._  
 _Let me, let me,_  
 _Freeze again to death!  
_ _Let me, let me,_ _let me,_  
 _Freeze again... to death._

"Yes, Sir."

Raithen nodded and gestured for the young one to finish his drink before leaving, assuring him that there was no rush. Mungojerrie, meanwhile, could not get his heart to stop pounding.

—

Mungojerrie had gone looking for his sister, but it ended up being Mosstail he found instead. He was watching the alder tree for some reason; the leaves were starting to fall off. Was summer over already? Mungojerrie could hardly believe that he and Rumpleteazer had been there for three months now. The time escaped them while they were busy with their never-ending heists and sweeps.

"Mate?" Said the tom to get his attention, but then Mungojerrie stopped, noticing just _what_ he was observing. Rumpleteazer was there, for once without Axel, she was looking at the leaves. The fact that Axel wasn't even there for Mosstail to be keeping an eye on made Mungojerrie incredibly perturbed, but he shook his head. "Has Raithen told you that he wants us to bring one of the intruders here?"

"Yes."

"Shall we go on and make our move?"

"Not yet. Wait until after dark. They won't be as alert."

"If we go at night, they'll _know_ we're deliberately being sneaky. If we go _now_ , they won't expect any violence."

Mosstail groaned. "Look at _you_ , giving orders like you're in charge. All right. We'll leave in another hour." He turned his gaze back to the Bengal queen, not even trying to be discreet that he was watching her.

Finally, Mungojerrie asked, "Is there any reason you keep looking at my sister like that?"

"She is... very comely." He knew he'd said the wrong thing to her twin brother, but what Mungojerrie wasn't sure of was whether he was being serious or just messing with him for asking something so silly.

Mungojerrie narrowed his eyes. "I'd like to speak with her in private, if that's all right with you." He barked with disdain. Mosstail gave him a dirty glare, but he went on his way. He went over to his sister, who smiled when she saw him.

"Hello, dear brother." She sang. He looked down and saw she'd taken some interesting seeds and leaves and arranged them into the shape of the squirrel. "Don't mind me, just doing some artwork."

"Bored, I'm guessing?"

"More like trying to be more creative. It gets dour around here."

"Well, listen. Raithen had me come talk with him this morning, he said he wants me to deal with some sort of threat."

Her brows furrowed, "A _threat?_ "

"Yes. But don't panic. I just need to bring in one of the toms that's been scoping the pasture so they can negotiate. That shouldn't be too hard."

"You don't want _me_ to come?" Even the prospect of him doing this alone was baffling to _her!_

"I tried to say I wanted to bring you, but he said that queens shouldn't be involved in this." He shrugged. "Clearly he doesn't know you as well as I do."

"No one ever will, Jerrie." She giggled.

He looked over his shoulder, making sure Mosstail had truly left. "Listen," he began quietly, "I want you to stay away from Mosstail, or at the very least don't be alone with him."

"He _is_ a funny one, isn't he?" She said crisply.

"Just be wary of him... I think he has an eye for you... for some bizarre reason."

"What do you _mean_ some bizarre reason?" She put her paws on her hips, curling her tail. "Don't worry about me, brother. I'm not a fool, though I play a pretty good one."

"It's one thing to let him _think_ you're a fool, but don't let him treat you like one... all right?"

"When did you become my father?" She mocked. "Remember _who_ the older twin is here!" Mungojerrie looked at her. _Still as silly as we were as kittens_ , he thought fondly. He envied her to know when to ignore life's trials and be able to smile. She had always been optimistic and cheerful... though she'd always had a social cunning about her as well. It's _because_ she smiled so prettily and often that she had the world's graces at her command. But as much as she liked to boast it, being five minutes older didn't make her five minutes _wiser_.

Still, he had to trust that she knew what he was doing if she trusted _him_. He must be doing _something_ right if even Raithen thought he was capable of this task. Mosstail told him that the tom imposed no threat upon them when they left the pasture, and that getting him to follow would be a cinch.

"Has this happened before?" Mungojerrie asked.

"Of course. No tribe is without its predators. Though Raithen prefers diplomacy when handling things, unlike some."

"I don't suppose he thinks he'll ward them off by having a pleasant chat over tea." He snickered.

"That's _precisely_ what he intends." Mosstail replied, to which Mungojerrie was left uncertain of how that could be effective at all. They sniffed out the small pack of strays and when they asked that their leader follow them alone, he obeyed without a fuss. At this point, Mungojerrie felt it was safe to assume that he'd be a part of this 'negotiation,' but as soon as he and Mosstail arrived at their homestead, he was quickly turned away.

"I thank you for doing your part." Said Raithen politely, "But this is something that only council members are allowed to attend."

Mungojerrie seemed disappointed. "Mosstail said it was just going to be a quick chat." Honestly, what could they be saying that he wasn't allowed to hear? Whatever – the day was still young; perhaps he could spend the rest of it catching up with his sister. It was almost abnormal at how they'd gone from spending every waking moment with each other to suddenly feeling like strangers. He had no clue where she was, but was eventually able to find her scent... along with someone else's. God damn it. Again? _Really?_

He listened from behind the wall, just around the corner. Axel and Rumpleteazer were admiring the view of the greenhouse.

"What's your favorite kind of flower?" He asked her.

"There's this one called the Cuckoo Flower." She laughed. "I just like the name!"

"I think I know what you're talking about. We call them Ladies Smocks."

 _"Why?"_

Axel shrugged. "I have no clue. We don't have any of those... but perhaps I could arrange something."

"Aww, how nice." She play-talked, making Mungojerrie ready to vomit. While he liked to think he knew his sister better than anyone else, he didn't know that if she had genuinely taken an interest in the Serengeti cat, or if she was simply playing him to keep her tail in tact... and if this _was_ another one of her kindness acts, then why keep it going with just _this_ one tom?

"We _do_ have primroses! Though they're not blooming this time of year."

"Primroses are pretty, I suppose." Mungojerrie was just _waiting_ for him to say something ridiculous back. _Oh, but not as pretty as you._ Sickening. He didn't know why he was even spying at this rate.

"You never _did_ say what your favorite opera was, by the way. I'd like to know more about it."

"Oh, well it'll be easy for you to remember. It's called _Phantom of the Opera_. My owners had the book, which I never finished. But the play, of course, is what I fell in love with. I cried a river the first time I watched it."

"What happens in this play?"

"Oh God, to make a long story short, an opera singer, go figure, is captured by a man living in a labyrinth underneath the theater who calls himself her Angel of Music. He's been obsessed with her since she was young and wants to force her to marry him... might I mention just how ugly and deformed he is... God, in the book, he's worse! Anyway, he eventually decides to let her go so she can be with the love of her life instead... because that's what _real_ love is."

"Well... that sounds rather plaintive."

"It's better when you see it." She said. "I'd drive my brother mad singing the songs over and over... Perhaps I'm meant for a profession that involves singing rather than thievery day in and day out." Indeed, this was true, but Rumpleteazer only sang when she was happy, and Mungojerrie wanted her to be happy, and so he'd sing his cues along with her.

Axel abruptly asked, "Could I hear?"

Rumpleteazer sank where she sat. "What?"

"Sorry—I just... no one's ever shared so much about themselves with me. This tribe's all I've known, and even my so-called friends don't sit down and talk with me as much as you have."

Rumpleteazer grinned and looked up at him, "What can I say? I _like_ talking to you."

"I like talking to you too." She stood up, her gaze out at the cloudy sky. "I'll sing you _one_ aria, but nothing else." At that Axel looked at her eagerly and Rumpleteazer straightened her posture.

 _Think of me, think of me fondly_  
 _When we've said goodbye_  
 _Remember me, once in a while_  
 _Please promise me you'll try_  
 _When you find that once again you long_  
 _To take your heart back and be free_  
 _If you ever find a moment_  
 _Spare a thought for me_

Mungojerrie knew this song... _Gods_ did he know it. He could hear the orchestra as if it were right behind him. Rumpleteazer would always close her eyes and imagine she was on a stage with crystals in her hair and an audience before her, dazzled.

 _We never said our love was evergreen_  
 _Or as unchanging as the sea_  
 _But if you can still remember_  
 _Stop and think of me_  
 _Think of all the things_  
 _We've shared and seen_  
 _Don't think about the way_  
 _Things might have been_

Slowly, she approached Axel, who was mesmerized, moved.

 _Think of me, think of me waking_  
 _Silent and resigned_  
 _Imagine me trying too hard_  
 _To put you from my mind_  
 _Recall those days_  
 _Look back on all those times_  
 _Think of the things we'll never do_  
 _There will never be a day_  
 _When I won't think of you_

Then that would be Mungojerrie's part, the part she had to beg him to sing only because he matched Raoul's voice so perfectly. It felt uncomfortable to him since he was her brother, but it was what kept them going on the days they needed to sing most... and then something struck him. Rumpleteazer only sang when she was happy; yes, she was a great actress who could trick _anybody_ , if not herself as well, but this happiness in her voice wasn't fake...

 _Flowers fade, the fruits of summer fade_  
 _They have their season, so do we_  
 _But please promise me that sometimes_  
 _You will think..._

Her lips were close to Axel's, but instead, she backed away from him. And instead of ruining her upcoming cadenza, Mungojerrie walked down the stairs. He loved his sister. Let her be happy.

 _Aaa-ah-Ah-a-Ahh...  
_ _Aaa-ah-Ah-a-Ah-a-Ahh...  
_ _Ah-Ah-a-Ah-a-Ah-a-ahh...  
Ah-AHHHHHHH—  
_ _—Of me!_

—

It was late in the evening when Mungojerrie finally got some company with his sister; they heard some clamoring going on downstairs accompanied by some laughter. Raithen and Mosstail were downstairs, and Axel had said they were treating their 'guest' to dinner. Mungojerrie was amazed at how peacefully this day had gone; he'd believed that cats were much more aggressive when it came to claiming their territory.

"Sounds like all's going well down there." She commented. They were eating some snacks and watching whatever they could get on the television. Mungojerrie had been more quiet than he normally was when spending time with her. "Brother, what's on your mind?" She asked somewhat teasingly. "You're quiet this evening."

"Nothing. I heard you singing earlier is all."

"All right?"

"It... it's been a while. You sounded lovely."

"I thought I was a little sharp on some notes." She said as a way of accepting his compliment. They were rarely sincere with each other. It appeared that she didn't realize he knew she'd been singing to Axel.

"I think Axel's smitten with you." He told her.

Rumpleteazer shot him a look. "Don't be ridiculous."

"I was just pointing it out... Why else does he follow you around chasing your tail?"

"So what?" She commented nonchalantly. " _Of course_ he likes me; I make sure _everyone_ around here likes me. It's good to have people thinking you're an ingenue who can do no wrong." She looked at him and raised a brow. Mungojerrie saw her point... and now he was beginning to see this in a new perspective—if Axel was as in love with Rumpleteazer as he seemed, then he would do just what she asked him to... it was always good to have someone they could rely on for backup in case something went wrong. "Jerrie, can you be a dear and grab me some sugar?"

"You're assuming I even know where it is?"

"You're better at finding things than I am." She said, despite the only reason was that she was just lazy. Mungojerrie slid off of his chair and proceeded towards what they made into their 'kitchen.' Walking past him in the hall however were Mosstail and the tom they'd brought to the pasture; neither noticed him and he kept a fair bit of distance between them as he followed.

"I'm sorry we couldn't sort things out. Your leader's _very_ persistent, isn't he?"

"That's why he's our leader. You know what they say. All's well that ends well. Before you go, though, let me make you a cup of tea!"

"I really need to—"

"Please, it's customary in this tribe. It'll only take a moment." The Russian Blue insisted, sitting the tom down, who acquiesced. Mungojerrie had a sudden instinct to stay out of sight and watch before entering the room. He saw Mosstail was trying to be quick, but discreet as he made the cup. All of the usual herbs were always kept on the counter, but he saw him use his claw to unlock one of the cabinets and pull out a small jar. It was once a prescription bottle, but it looked like something _else_ was kept in there... Mungojerrie's rationality told him that it was _their_ business, not his. They were getting rid of a possible threat.

But then something else tugged on him so hard that he felt his heart jolt. The enigma known as a conscience. He never had any desire to peer into his own soul, and this was a complete stranger to him. And here he was; unassuming, trusting and waiting quietly for his drink only because they'd insisted. If Rumpleteazer were here, she'd know what the better option was... but she wasn't. He was told that this was not for a queen to witness. Mungojerrie waited until Mosstail got the water going before he walked in, not saying a word.

"Ah, Jerrie. You're just in time. Our visitor is about to take his leave." The Bengal felt that Mosstail meant that in _a different way_ than it sounded. Mungojerrie peered over at the tom that was about to die, unable to hide his nervousness. "You all right?"

He darted his head away. "I'm just... looking for the sugar." He stuttered.

"You're staring right at it, mate."

"Right, yes! Thank you." He took the small bag in his paw and was going to quit the room, walking around the table near where the guest was sitting, only to bang his hip against the side and drop it. It hadn't spilt, but the guest immediately got up and knelt down to help him pick it up. Mungojerrie acted. He grabbed his wrist in a death-like grip. _"Don't drink the tea."_ The tom didn't get a chance to respond before Mungojerrie snatched the bag and exited.

—

For days, Mungojerrie did what he could to avoid any sort of contact with the Copperkits, particularly Mosstail... if _anyone_ was going to have an idea of how their guest escaped, _he_ would. Even Rumpleteazer was somewhat distressed at her own brother's avoidance of everyone, including _her_. He was just following instructions: _don't_ involve her. He found himself strangely drawn to the alder tree where the well laid beneath. He wanted to know just how deep it was, so he'd stick his head down and whistle three notes to hear how long his echo went on for. The young tom got bored of it almost instantly and looked around some more.

Amazing how the autumn weather seemed to kill everything in sight; not much more greenery to look at and hardly any blue in the sky. He was becoming a little downtrodden without the sunlight. It made everything _that_ much more dreary. Axel had caught onto the twins' unnatural behavior and chose to act; he attempted to start a conversation with Mungojerrie, but was immediately dismissed. As for Rumpleteazer, the tall tom had made his way to multiple shops and was able to return with a _very_ small bouquet of her favorite flowers. Even _she_ didn't know how to respond to the gesture, but she accepted them... Axel even diligently placed one behind her ear, making her unable to look him in the eyes for a split moment.

Such a funny gent, she'd say. It was not until later, when he discovered the card he wrote to her in the petals, that something inside of her suddenly grew, a new, different kind of warmth.

 _I think of you, I think of you fondly._

She shared this with no one. It was _hers_ to keep... _theirs_. Her first and only secret she ever kept from her brother. After all, hadn't _he_ been keeping something from her this past week? Why else would he be so dismissive of her?

The Bengal tom was unable to hide forever, unfortunately. Raithen came upon him early in the morning and summoned him for a short walk. No one else was awake yet, it seemed. It was far too frigid outside for a 'stroll,' but Raithen insisted even though he was shivering. He had no coat to rely on! "My eyes and ears have been telling me you've been acting troubled these past few days."

"Not at all, Sir." He said, tail wrapped around himself slightly for some warmth.

"You don't have to be so formal with me. We're all equal here, aren't we?"

"Oh, well, you're leader... and all... so..."

"You can look me in the eye, boy." Raithen said encouragingly, and Mungojerrie responded as though it were an order. The Sphynx tom put an arm around the Bengal. "If you're to be one of our own, then I'd like for us to be honest with each other—and to my own sorrow, I haven't been giving you my a-hundred percent." Mungojerrie followed wherever Raithen was leading him; he couldn't help but notice that they were nearing the barn, eyes inadvertently moving towards it. "There's a reason _why_ , though."

"Oh yeah?" He said half-heartedly.

"You and your sister aren't like the rest. In a field full of witless strays, you two are _smart_. On top of that, it's nice to have a queen around here... Might I ask you a personal question regarding Miss Teazer?"

Mungojerrie stopped, tensing up. "Like what?"

"Has she been... fixed?" Immediately he knew what the purpose of his question entailed, and it disturbed him. He felt his stomach turn and twist. "Can she bear kittens?"

"No." He replied briskly. "She was spayed when we were kittens. Our owners said they didn't need us _inbreeding_." He threw in a scornful tone as if to imply it was _their_ words and not him making up an excuse.

Raithen nodded. "I appreciate your honesty." Mungojerrie couldn't grasp whether that had been a faint mockery of some sort. Once he and Raithen were finished, Mungojerrie bolted around the pasture in a daze to find his sister, at one point slipping in the dewy grass and falling hard on his chest. He finally found her, under the alder tree... with Axel... they'd been... holding each other. His face was pressed close to hers until she saw her brother and moved away.

Mungojerrie stared in disbelief, she stared back.

—

"We've got to get out of here." He said to her the moment they were alone.

Rumpleteazer didn't understand. "Why? What's gotten into you?"

"Just listen to me! Next time we're out hunting, we just _leave_. _Never_ come back."

"You're frightened..." She took her brother's paw and sat him down on the window seat. "Did someone say anything to you?"

"I just don't think we're safe here anymore. All right? Don't you think it's a little _odd_ that you're the only woman here and _both_ head toms have had their eyes on you since we arrived?"

"I have _claws_ , brother! On top of that, Axel's promised to keep an eye on me." At that, Mungojerrie was enraged.

"To Hell with Axel! He just wants the same thing as any other tom wants!" Rumpleteazer looked heartbroken underneath her furious expression. "You've got to stop playing this little game and be serious!"

"It's not a game anymore!" She shouted back, not realizing someone might hear them. "In fact, maybe it never _was_ a game... not with him."

"Don't be delusional."

Finally pushed, Rumpleteazer slapped her paw across his face, then again. It was the first time she'd ever struck her brother. In utter despair, she shoved and pushed him forcefully until she locked him out of the room, and Mungojerrie, realizing his mistake, didn't even dare try and make his way back in.

—

There was something in the barn, something Raithen didn't _want_ them to see. It only made sense. He would get it open.

—

Mungojerrie had seen his sister's temper before, but it was only a matter of time before he truly incurred her wrath after what he'd said. He tried to apologize to her, but she didn't want to hear it. She wanted to be alone with the radio and spend more time with Axel – it was clear just _whose_ company she now preferred, and the tom's only fear in existence was coming to life... though there were _worse_ things that could be happening to her. She wanted to be with someone who told her what she wanted to hear: that things would be all right and that happily ever after wasn't so out of reach. He knew Rumpleteazer to be absolutely committed to her 'acting,' but if _this_ was how far she was taking it... well, by all means, she just might survive him yet, because even _he_ was fooled.

Raithen would not fool him, not anymore. Even his sister had her suspicions all along. He could always have faith in her to have good sense, at least. Mungojerrie had spent his time calculating and watching; taking note of everyone's route and schedules, then he could try and worm his way into the barn to see what they were keeping locked away.

He'd gotten some bolt cutters on his last heist, burying it deep in the bottom of his satchel and stowing it under one of his pillows. It took him another month or so to convince himself that the time was right and he had everything mapped out. In the dead of night, now colder than it had been all year, picked up his hidden trinket and climbed out the window. His heart was racing and he kept shivering, but he had to know. Perhaps whatever was in there could help him convince Teazer to leave... Hell, he would use it _against_ Raithen for all he cared! He jammed the pliers inside a link and tried to pull open the jaws to break it from within. This method gave him no leverage. His paw slipped, and the tool tumbled onto the ground. His paws and arms were sore from putting in all his strength, but it was no use.

His only other option would be to _guess_ the code on the padlock, but what in God's name would it even be? He hadn't even gotten anything _close_ to a clue of what numbers would be significant enough to be the key, nor if it was just random and he could rely on dumb luck. Mungojerrie was so focused on his task that he had no idea that something had snuck up behind him and that as soon as he'd turn to leave, everything would go black.

He opened his eyes, and as soon as the tiniest crack of light entered his vision, he squeezed them back shut. Good _God_ , his head! He mustered the energy to put a paw to where the pain was the strongest. It felt like he was only gone for a moment or two, but he was nowhere near the barn now. It had been long enough to drag his unconscious body down to Raithen's quarters. He knew this is where he was, because the first thing to greet the Bengal once his vision cleared was the painting of Ixion being entangled by a serpent that held him down onto a wheel.

"You're awake!" A voice cheerfully exclaimed. "I already gave my compeer a talking-to. Nebula doesn't know the meaning of 'go easy.'" _Nebula?_ Mungojerrie had never heard _that_ name around here... though from the corner of his eye, he could see a gaunt Savannah cat retreating out of the room. "Does your head hurt? I have a remedy for pain if you'd like."

No. No drinks. Who knew what this _remedy_ would entail? He was afraid to even let _Rumpleteazer_ take food or tea from anyone _but_ himself... that _he_ made from scratch. Mungojerrie used his forearm to push himself off his back. What did he hit him with, a _rock?_ It felt more like it had been a brick!

"I'm sorry to have to put you in such a condition, but believe me, _this_ was a better outcome than if you _had_ gotten the door unlocked." He picked up the bolt cutters, "Resourceful, you are."

"What do you really keep in there?" He asked, straining his voice. "I swear I won't tell anyone, but I _have_ to know."

"Did I not _say_ curiosity killed the cat, my friend?" _I am not your friend_ , thought Mungojerrie. _I am your prisoner_. "You should be more wary of your proverbs." He went to the radio where he searched for a particular station while Jerrie had no means of escaping; he knew that Nebula, or whoever, was standing outside the door. Mungojerrie looked at the painting again, only from the fact there was nothing else to... he saw something. A date on the frame... _numbers_.

1876\. Could that be...?

Music came on. It was Mozart... though this was... _far_ from the dreamy, waltzy Mozart Mungojerrie was familiar with. "Ahh, a classic." Raithen sighed.

 _Lacrimosa, dies illa_  
 _Qua resurget ex favilla  
Judicandus homo reus!  
_

Raithen looked at Mungojerrie. Mungojerrie looked at Raithen. The bald, homely tom proceeded closer to where he sat and Mungojerrie's eyes did not leave his... not even when Raithen knelt down in front of him. "I never did get to finish the story of Ixion... I'm simply anxious to tell you the rest." Mungojerrie said nothing, staring hatefully and coldly.

 _Lacrimosa, dies illa_  
 _Qua resurget ex favilla  
Judicandus homo reus!_

Raithen moved slightly so Mungojerrie could see the portrait, though it's not like he'd taken it in enough as it was. "You see, when Ixion married Dia, he promised her father a valuable present. When he didn't deliver, however, Deioneus became very angry and stole some of his horses. Ixion, of course, was not any happier about it, so he veiled his resentment for his father-in-law and invited him to dinner. When he arrived," he reenacted the gesture with his paws, "Ixion pushed Deioneus into a bed of burning coals."

 _Huic ergo parce, Deus_  
 _Pie Jesu Domine._

"Now, you might be wondering what happened next. You see, although he defied such a sacred law, Zeus showed the king kindness and absolved him of his crime... all seemed well, right? Well, the ungrateful, piteous bastard tried to seduce Hera, Zeus's wife, as thanks." Raithen closed in on Mungojerrie, ensuring he was paying attention this time. "When Zeus found out, he decided to give Ixion the benefit of the doubt and he fashioned up a cloud in the form of Hera to see if it was true – indeed, it was. So Zeus sent this lecherous king..." He placed a paw on the top of the Bengal's head; Mungojerrie was desperately looking everywhere _but_ at the Sphynx. "...down into Hades, where he would be chained to a fiery wheel for the rest of eternity... You understand the meaning of this story?"

Trying his damndest to maintain any iota of composure he could, Mungojerrie looked back into his eyes, knowing the villain expected some sort of response.

He caressed his claw down the boy's face. "It means that rascals who don't keep their promises or appreciate the virtue of hospitality are punished. And, like Zeus, I make sure all debts are paid in the end." Mungojerrie blinked back tears, not sure where they were coming from. _Am I going to die tonight?_ Something inside him was asking. _Just set my sister free, then kill me_. "I've had many Ixions in my life, comrade... and I've been left with no choice but to plunge them into the underworld..."

 _Dona eis requiem!  
_ _Dona eis requiem!_ _  
_

 _The well._ All this time he'd known. Raithen kept stroking the tom's chin, almost with a sort of greedy affection. Mungojerrie had no fight in him; his claws were tearing through the fabric of the couch he sat on.

"If you choose to be a little rascal again, then I just might send _you_ to the underworld next... though, I'll be keeping your sister. She's too valuable to get rid of so soon." A tear escaped and swiveled rapidly down his cheek, still looking Raithen in the eyes. "Think about that the next time you choose to behave like an ungrateful lout." Finally, he let go of him.

 _Amen!_


	23. Bear

**Demeter**

The calico queen smiled widely at the kit in her paws. "Can you say ' _mummy?_ '" She nuzzled him, "Mum...my?" Aéras blinked his green eyes at her and babbled lightly. "Good job!" She gave him a big kiss before putting him down. Demeter handed over Aéras his toy and let him go play again. His siblings and the other kittens were waiting. Bombalurina was with her, taking some time out of her day to keep Demeter company while Munkustrap was busy with his council situation. He wanted nothing more than to ignore it all, but these were trying times. "I'm gonna miss their wet baby smiles when they get older..." She bemoaned.

"I'm sure you will." Bombalurina shifted over and sighed dreamily. "I can't believe you're not exhausted."

Demeter winced at her. "What are you talking about? _I am_ exhausted! It just becomes your default state of mind after a while."

"You don't _look_ it, and that's all that matters." She winked at her.

"I think Munkustrap's been sleeping better... of course, he might just not be sleeping _at all_ so he can watch them twenty-four seven. It can't be good for him."

"It's because he loves them."

"I know." Demeter lamented. "Doesn't mean it won't catch up to him later on." She rested her chin on her paw. "It feels so strange to know that we might be under siege and not even know it... but our kittens have _no clue_. You can't even explain to them how we need to protect them."

"You're not alone in this... we're all in this together as a tribe." Insisted Bombalurina. "Those kittens are one of us; you say the word and we'll send down the Queen's regents to guard them!" At that, Demeter snickered. "Still, they're so beautiful. I imagine I'm not seeing how hard it gets _behind_ the scenes, of course."

Demeter rolled her eyes. "It's not fun when they fuss and they're not hungry _or_ tired... and you don't speak baby, so you just have to let them cry through it." Tilikum came over, babbling again and again, trying to communicate, though he bounced slightly as he hopped into his mother's lap. She and Munkustrap liked to pretend that he was trying to sing... and who said he wasn't? Bombalurina pet Tilikum's head, and Demeter asked, "Munkustrap said that you were away from the tribe for a long, _long_ time. Where'd you go?"

Bombalurina simpered and told her, "Paris." Demeter's brows shot up. "And Brussels, and Amsterdam... God, I _loved_ Amsterdam."

"How on earth did you make it all the way to _Paris_?"

"Train, of course!" She answered. "I just hopped onto the back car and snuck in. It's not hard to hide under beds and tables, you know."

"To just pick up and go like that; it sounds almost terrifying."

"Well, it wasn't _entirely_ spontaneous. I had an idea of where I was going to go and how I'd get there... but I just got so caught up in it all—" She lolled her head back with a heavenly expression. "I _never_ wanted to come back."

Demeter wrinkled her forehead and rested Tilly in the crook of her arm, "So why _did_ you?"

"Simple." She looked at the calico, "I promised I'd be back. I didn't say _when_ , but I kept good on my word. I knew no matter what country I was in that I was a Jellicle. Still, you meet some colorful cats out there in the world. There wasn't as much culture shock as I expected."

"No language barrier?"

"Well, not really..." She smiled fondly, "I met an interpreter when I first got to France; he said he'd teach me all about the language of romance, or so he'd say."

Demeter knew where this was going, "And did he...?"

Bombalurina raised her brows, grinning. "I learned to speak French all right... I learned _a lot_ of new phrases during my stay."

"All right!" She covered Tilikum's ears, "Not in front of the kitten!" She chuckled.

"But really, he treated me very well... he even tried to convince me to stay before I left for Belgium. He said I was so beautiful that artists on the street could paint me everyday and never get tired of it. And I'll admit to you something, I liked the flattery."

"But of course." Tilikum hiccuped and Demeter smiled down at him and then lifted him to pat his back. "I wonder if Munkustrap would go to Paris... or if he'd go _anywhere_ outside of London."

"Jenny and Skimble would watch the kittens."

Demeter rolled her eyes. _"He's_ not going _anywhere_ without the kittens... even if they were older, he wouldn't want to go."

"Well, you tell him..." She whispered in her ear as if the silver kit in the queen's arms would even understand her, "...that there's nothing better than making love in view of the Eiffel Tower." Demeter's eyes went wide, though not from shock. She was actually _considering_ the thought! The last time they mated came to mind—the song she'd put on... it had been in French for God's sake! Perhaps it had been a sign.

Bombalurina felt rewarded; more than happy to plant the idea in her head.

 _J'avoue j'en ai bavé pas vous mon amour?_  
 _Avant d'avoir eu vent de vous mon amour._

Though this was a pleasant fantasy, Demeter was not really inclined to plant any ideas of 'escaping' in her mate's head when she knew it was the _last_ thing he would ever consider. On top of that, she was going _nowhere_ while her kittens were too young to travel without getting stressed. Only if it meant guaranteed safety from the outside fiends would she find it worth putting them through it. And in all honesty, there were more intriguing places in Demeter's mind than Paris. She liked the idea of Berlin much more, with their striking castles that reminded her of the ones in her human's movies. She wanted to tell those stories to her _own_ princess and princes, sing them those songs, give them the comfortable kittenhood she'd had, even without the luxury and protection of an indoor home.

Of course, _her_ kittens would grow up much more independent than Demeter had, and be able to hunt on their own _before_ they're teenagers. She encouraged them to chase anything that moved, rolled around their toys with them and remind them it was okay to hiss and claw if a stranger ever tried to speak to them. Do not go with _anyone_ who isn't Mummy or Daddy, Uncle Tugger, or Grannie and Pappy. And, by all means, _stay together_.

The triplets were almost alarmingly smart, they were just now starting to understand the letters in their storybooks but they could already count. Tilikum just couldn't resist a 'game' of high-five. In fact, it was _Tugger's_ idea when it came to teaching them: make it into a game. Having grown up with dyslexia, he said he'd make reading or counting easier on himself by conjuring up a game of it in his head.

The Maine Coon would count on his paw, ensuring that one or all three kittens would count with him. "One, two, three, four... high-five!" And then the kit would eagerly smack his paw with their own. Demeter was glad to see them so playful and trusting with their family, and while she wanted them to grow up intelligent, she also wanted them to grow up _kind_.

In a world as cruel as this, compassion was a necessity to survive—at least, that's what Demeter had always believed. If one did not understand the pain of others, then how could there be love or connections? The world already had an abundance of hate; it was the easiest thing in the world to fuel. To teach _love_ was the real challenge. Though Demeter had the capacity to feel contempt and disdain... she truly didn't believe she _hated_ anyone. Hate had no purpose in her life when she lived with a faithful tribe and now had a devoted mate and beautiful kittens. In fact, it took all her strength _not_ to hate her old enemies. _That_ was real power, she thought.

Others did not have to understand her outlook; it was hers alone. Sometimes even Munkustrap wouldn't always understand her more abstract way of seeing things rather than just what they were... but he never questioned her, and that was more than she could ask.

When it was much later and the kittens were worn out, Demeter sang them to sleep just to get them to nap. It seemed that she and Munkustrap unknowingly conditioned them to only be able to rest if someone was singing to them, be it their mother _or_ father, or even their uncle. She was feeling oddly nostalgic that day, singing an old favorite of hers.

 _I wonder, I wonder  
_ _I wonder why each  
_ _Little bird has someone  
_ _To sing to sweet things to  
_ _A gay little love bird melody?_

 _I wonder, I wonder  
_ _If my heart keeps singing  
_ _Will my song go winging  
_ _To someone who'll find me  
_ _And bring back a love song to me?_

God knows what a hopeless romantic she used to be—she would sing that during her lone walks even when she still lived with humans. Now she had her love bird and three little nestlings. Before she could lie down for _just_ a second, Tilikum poked his head up and pawed at her. He wanted a different song, but he couldn't say it, trying his hardest to mew it to her.

Although worried he'd rile up his siblings again, she couldn't help but smile at him so desperately trying to communicate. "What is it? You're supposed to be sleepy."

 _"Mreh... Mrow..._ " He whined sadly. Demeter couldn't say 'no' to those eyes.

"Okay, _one_ more." Demeter, in fact, knew just the song; for it was true about her youngest tom.

 _I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream_  
 _I know you, that look in your eyes is so familiar a gleam_  
 _And I know it's true that visions are seldom all they seem_  
 _But if I know you, I know what you'll do_  
 _You'll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream_

Instead of making him tired, Tilium bounced excitedly, smiling brighter at his mother's voice. As she'd feared, both of his siblings were now awake... but in all honesty, she didn't even feel mad when she saw how happy he was. She nuzzled his teensy black nose with hers and looked at the others. "Music...?" She asked, all understanding the meaning although they couldn't say 'yes' or 'no.'

She vocalized another warm up, going on with her song.

 _But if I know you, I know what you'll do_  
 _You'll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream_

Sophitia started babbling with her, trying to sing along! _Precious!_ Oh, why couldn't Munkustrap be given more free time? He would love this! "Wanna hear again?" She might be exhausted, but her kittens were all smiles. She could stay awake for a few more minutes. But before she could proceed, Aéras, crawling over Sophitia, sputtered something.

A word. "Pooh!"

Demeter blinked; certain it was just another baby noise, but no, he'd _known_ what sound he was trying to make. "You... _poo?_ " She said as if it was some holy word.

Aéras smiled and started swishing his tail, "Pooh!"

Demeter put her paw over her mouth. Already...? _"Poo?"_ She repeated, only making the tortie even more anxious. But then something hit her, "Y-you have to poo?"

 _"Pooh!"_ He kept saying. He wasn't _acting_ like he had to go. Demeter was smiling bigger than _he_ was. She scented her brother-in-law, right on time. She flew out of the den.

"Tugger!" She screamed so abruptly that the Maine Coon jumped back as he turned around.

"What?" He exclaimed.

"Go get Munkustrap!"

"Why?"

"He said 'poo!'"

Rum Tum Tugger looked absolutely perplexed. "Munkustrap said 'poo?'"

"Aéras!" She kept nodding, almost bouncing. "Aéras said 'poo!'"

His ears perked up. "Little guy spoke?"

"Yes! Now go get your brother! Tell him it's important!" And Tugger hurried off, having never seen a queen so excited about poo before in his life.

—

When Munkustrap arrived at the den, Demeter figured out just _where_ their little black kitten learned this word. The blue-eyed tom raced inside, "Aéras talked?" He immediately asked before his kittens could even crawl over to greet him. Tugger joined them; no way in the heaviside layer would he miss this. Munkustrap sat down with Sophie and Tilly in his arms, Demeter still had Aéras, who looked at his father brightly with big eyes.

Demeter bounced him, "Can you say it? Say 'poo?'" Munkustrap winced a little, but he was no less thrilled when Aéras echoed his mother. Tugger tried not to laugh, though his shoulders spasmed a little right after the kit spoke.

" _Did_ he go poo?" Munkustrap asked, wondering if their kitten even knew the _meaning_ of it.

"It's... _not_ what I was thinking, turns out." Picking up their Scottish stuffed bear, Aéras took it, exclaiming the word. "Pooh bear!" She said, unable to subdue another laugh.

"Where'd he learn _that?_ " Munkustrap replied.

"Probably Skimble." Tugger said. He snorted and leaned against the entryway, "Good to know my little nephew's gonna go around telling everybody 'poo.'"

Munkustrap took Aéras, along with his plush bear, into his lap, "He's _my_ little pooh bear." He nuzzled him, "Aren't you?" He then pricked a brow up and looked at Rum Tum Tugger, "Remember Jennyanydots used to call you 'Tigger' and how mad you'd get?"

Demeter started snickering and Tugger rolled his eyes. "Please don't start." He felt someone paw at his ankle. It was Sophitia. "Little Princess isn't gonna grow up thinking my name's Tigger," he picked her up so she could see his eyes, "right? Because then I'll start calling _you_ , Roo."

 _"Pooh!"_ Aéras chanted again, believing his uncle had said the word himself. Munkustrap knew he might have to correct him somehow.

"Bear." He said, confusing the little tom. "Pooh... bear?"

 _"Pooh... ba!"_

At that, even Rum Tum Tugger melted at his little baby voice mimicking his father. For the rest of the day, Demeter continuously called Aéras her silly little bear. She didn't know much about Winnie-the-Pooh besides the names of the characters, nor did Munkustrap. Perhaps Jennyanydots had some storybooks they could borrow. The Scottish Fold, however, spared some time to teach Demeter the song.

"Ohhh, my silly little bear! My silly, silly, little bear!" She cooed, tickling the kitten as he kicked his feet excitedly.

"Apparently Winnie-the-Pooh was a real bear." Munkustrap said.

"But what's a pooh bear? I've never heard of those."

He shrugged. "I think it's just something made up for the story." He went on giving Tilikum his bath; they learned that he was less fussy about it if it was his daddy washing him.

"I'm surprised my human wasn't into it." She blew a raspberry into Aéras' tummy. Unlike Sophitia, who'd explode into giggles when she did, the tortie would just blink his eyes confusedly. _Tough crowd_. When Sophitia saw what her mother was doing, she quickly pawed at her for _her_ turn. Once she turned to hold her, however, Aéras fussed... but not for long.

 _Deep in the hundred acre wood_  
 _Where Christopher Robin plays..._

And once again, he smiled and giggled excitedly, bouncing. In all fairness, _anything_ their mother and father sang made them happy. She skipped ahead to his favorite part.

 _Winnie the Pooh_  
 _Winnie the Pooh_  
 _Tubby little cubby all stuffed with fluff!_  
 _He's Winnie the Pooh_  
 _Winnie the Pooh_  
 _Willy nilly silly old bear!_

She laughed, "I actually kind of like that song!"

"It's easy to remember." Chortled Munkustrap. Tilikum was now trying to climb over his shoulder. "And I'm gonna start calling _you_ my little piglet!" He said to the mischievous kitten. It was snowing some more, though it wasn't any colder than it was the day before. It was time to get the kittens to bed anyway; perhaps because they had no nap, they'd sleep through the night! Demeter's one true hope was that _Munkustrap_ would sleep through the night.

He always felt better falling asleep with at least one arm around her; it told him that she was there in his protection. Both would toss and turn, but Demeter found that no matter what position she was in, should she wake _after_ him, he'd be holding her again. It bothered her not, of course, but she wondered it there would come a time he would feel it was safe enough for him to not sleep right on top of her unless he _wanted_ to. Yes, he liked to hold her, but he himself had confessed when she asked, "I know you're safe when I have you close. If anyone tries to touch you, I'll know."

* * *

 **Munkustrap**

Though he'd gone to sleep in the best of moods, Munkustrap woke up three times from nightmares. After the third time he was too restless to return to sleep. Munkustrap saw Demeter rolled over with their litter bundled at her breasts; having woken up for a quick feed. She was back asleep and he had no desire to disturb her.

He would see blood wherever he looked in his dreams, Raithen and Macavity... sometimes the two as one person. His father's ghost calling for him. There was _some_ light outside when he woke up the third time. He'd had his rest for the night; sleep was fine, it was dreams that he dreaded. Munkustrap pressed a chaste kiss to Demeter's cheek and put the blanket over her and the babies. He waited until it was a little brighter and then stepped outside; not much snowfall, but frost and ice everywhere. His father's spirit must be sending him a message... at least that's _one_ theory of why it was so cold in London this winter.

He didn't go to the food pile, nor did he do a perimeter walk. Munkustrap just wanted to think to himself while things were quiet. He got up on a tall rubble pile, swiped some snow off, and took a seat. The weather was strangely beautiful, but he couldn't even appreciate it. His stomach pained him. Was it hunger? It had to be _something_ , it felt like a rock. Did he even _eat_ dinner the evening before? Why was he unable to tend to his most basic needs so suddenly? Zero sleep with only little bites of food when he got shaky from hunger.

He heard the fence rattle and he flinched. When he turned around, he was relieved for once that it was only the twins coming back from a heist. They were equally startled to see him watching. Rumpleteazer, like always, smiled at him. "Got up to watch the sunrise?"

"I don't suppose that's what _you two_ were doing."

"The charms of winter seem lost on you, dear leader." She called up to where he was perched, "Look around you! How often does a Jellicle get to experience such beauty?" He could sense that she wanted to cheer him up, but all he could do was muster a forced grin. He saw Rumpleteazer giving Mungojerrie a look, the twins apparently having the gift of mind-reading.

"Mind if I join you up there, mate?" Mungojerrie asked, to which Munkustrap would feel guilty denying. The Bengal handed Rumpleteazer his satchel and she pranced off to their tent. He climbed up, almost slipping on the ice and the grey tom had to grab his arm. They took a seat next to each other. "My sister complains about the cold, but then she insists we go on pre-morning sweeps when it's still windy and freezing."

Munkustrap snorted, shaking his head. "I would've looked more presentable if I'd known I'd be seeing anyone this early." He said quietly, referring to his unkempt coat.

"You're our leader, I'm your subordinate." Mungojerrie said as response. That was _his_ way of reassuring him. "Your kittens are getting big. I was a bit surprised when I saw them running around yesterday. Handsome ones, they are." He smiled slightly. "You really gave my sister baby-fever. Rumpleteazer wants kittens someday, perhaps in a few years, and she tells me that they better have some cousins to play with, heh! But honestly, I think I'm better off as an uncle than a father."

"Why's that?"

Mungojerrie stopped short. "Instinct. My gut tells me I'm just not cut out for that responsibility. Of course, maybe five years down the line I'll meet a girl and change my mind, but until then, I'm all right being on my own. With my sister too, I mean."

Munkustrap felt curiosity strike him, but the question felt rude to ask. Mungojerrie pressed him to say what was on his mind, and so with some reluctance, he licked his lips and said, "Did you... Have you ever had a mate?"

Mungojerrie raised his brows and gave a funny look. Silently, he was saying, "What do _you_ think?" When Munkustrap immediately looked regretful, however, he laughed, "It's all right." He clicked his tongue, "No. I haven't. And honestly, I just haven't been _looking_ for a while." Munkustrap nodded. He didn't have his first mate until almost a year ago, so who was _he_ to judge? The tom was only twenty-four; he had plenty of time. "My sister had one..." He said, shocking Munkustrap. "She... she doesn't enjoy speaking of it. _I_ haven't spoke of it, not in the six years we've been here. He was sickeningly perfect;" he said with a smirk, "tall, good-looking, polite and shy... I almost kept _wanting_ for him to be a fraud just so I could be the most important thing in her life again. It sounds petty, but it was my first time ever truly knowing what envy was like. It doesn't feel good at all."

"What happened?" Munkustrap asked him, but then he felt like he'd asked too much.

Mungojerrie held his mouth agape as he wondered whether he should tell him or not; it was not _his_ business, technically, although what Rumpleteazer didn't know wouldn't hurt her. But he said that he'd never spoke of it... perhaps now he _wanted_ to. Unable to look at Munkustrap directly, the Bengal replied, "I did what I had to do to protect her." And Mungojerrie wished to say no more about it.


	24. Instinct

**Rum Tum Tugger**

Rum Tum Tugger didn't like winter.

He was born in the summer, and so he thrived in the summer. He didn't require so much extra fur to keep warm and preening took _much_ less time in the mornings. On top of that, he wasn't used to this much snow in London; now he was especially slower in chasing down his food and resources were scarce as it was. Just a few more human months and it would soon be warm and sunny again and he could start blowing his overcoat, as he called it.

Mr. Mistoffelees loved this time of year because it meant the days were shorter; less time for humans to be out and disrupt his search for magic supplies. Tugger just _knew_ his little buddy would be thrilled when the cold snap struck the West End and it meant more shops would be conveniently closed. Tugger would often have to escort the kit since he was still a year too young to be outside the tribe on his own past curfew, and Munkustrap only permitted it as long as an adult was with him. Well, his words had specifically been 'a _responsible_ adult,' so perhaps they were still breaking his rules.

He was sleeping quite nicely; warm in a thick blanket underneath the broken car, wrapped up in a ball, even his tail covering his nose and keeping it warm. Ears were resting flatly against his skull, though they flicked occasionally. A small paw gently shook him and whispered his name, but he didn't budge. His eyelids continued to twitch in a dream. It called to him again, more singsong and he groaned a little.

Finally, it shouted. "TUGGER!"

His eyes flipped open and his ears shot straight up. _"What?"_ His heart jolted until he looked and saw a pair of copper eyes looking down at him.

"Good morning." _Morning?_ It was still grey out.

"What do you want, Misto?" He croaked groggily, tucking himself under the sheet some more and closing his eyes.

"I forgot some stuff that I'll need at the shop for my next act, and I'll need someone to keep watch for when the morning shifters come in."

Tugger's ears went down again, "Can't you just... _sense_ them or something? I'm tired still."

"I guess I _could_ teleport my way out if I needed to... but then I'd be forced to leave said items behind." He pondered aloud.

"Kid, we can go later tonight when I'm actually _up_." He said.

"The picture box that H-U-M-A-N-S look at said that it's supposed to snow again tonight; we might have better luck if we go sometime during the day."

"Well you're gonna have to wait five more minutes then..." He moaned, nodding off once again.

"All right!" Said the tuxedo tom cheerfully. "In that case, I'll wait right here!" He sat down where he stood and Tugger could feel nothing but discomfort when he peeped an eye open and saw the kit sitting nearby fiddling with his own tail as he waited.

"I, um... don't exactly like being _watched_ while I sleep."

"Oh, sorry." Mistoffelees turned his back to him, "Is this better?" There really was no end to this kitten's crazy ideas, was there? Tugger sighed into the ground and got to his knees, holding the blanket around him.

"All right kid, come on."

"Jeez, that was quick!"

"Mhm." He rasped, half-asleep. They left the junkyard and headed for the old toy store that Mistoffelees had shimmied his way into the night before, still vacant for the time being. Tugger waited outside the back, wading between wakefulness and sleep before random knick-knacks started tumbling out the door into a pile.

"How are the kittens, by the way?" Asked Mistoffelees, which he now did every day; he'd forget sometimes and ask him twice in the same hour.

"Good." Tugger slipped a paw out from the blanket so he could rub his eyes. He yawned. "They don't seem to stop growing. It feels like they were born yesterday."

"What's funny," said the teenager as he poked his head out from behind the wall, "is I was also born during a blizzard! Except this year it's not a blizzard, and I was one of eight kittens... and the other seven are dead." He disappeared back inside and Tugger blinked, a little befuddled. He wasn't sure how to respond... and he definitely didn't have a desire to think about dead kittens. Being an uncle changed some perspectives for him. "But someday I'll figure out how to pull them out of a hat so they can be reborn!"

"I'm sure you will." Tugger couldn't help but smirk to encourage him.

Mistoffelees froze in his tracks and poked his head back out, "Tugger, I'm sensing something."

"What? People?"

He shook his head. "Nuh uh."

Then Tugger himself smelled it; a faintly recognizable scent. He turned around and immediately his lip curled into a snarl. He eyed a mangy tom standing not too far from them; the one his brother had spared and set free. What did _he_ want spying on them? "Stay here, kid." He ordered, dropping the blanket to the icy ground and prowling closer.

The tom recoiled with his ears and tail both low, "I don't want any trouble." He already began to plea, intimidated by Tugger's size alone; his winter coat made him look even bigger, though by just a little bit.

"What do you want, you worm?" He said with an underlying growl in his voice.

"I have news... a report about Raithen."

"What news?

"If I could just speak to your leader..." He replied nervously.

 _"I'll_ be delivering this news. Now answer me before I rip out what's left of your fur." He demanded. Tugger had _no_ desire to be cordial to the tom that had supposedly knocked over his brother's mate _after_ trying to kill him. The Copperkit refuge now looked all the more shaken—in his mind, he knew _just_ who he was talking to: the cat _responsible_ for killing the most notorious criminal of their species. He had no idea how calmly and quickly it had gone down, nor that it was in a moment of righteous fury as opposed to a thoughtful, calculated attack.

"H-he— He..." He licked his lips, dry from the cold. "I know he plans on paying your tribe another visit soon. He intends to send Nebula again. The only details I know is that he just wants to deal with your new leader. He even _told_ Nebula to not let things get messy this time."

There had to be more. "Anything else?"

"Um..." He gulped, certain he might hack up a hairball from how nervous he was. If looks alone could kill, the rogue would've been slain ten times over by the Maine Coon. "He doesn't think the lad is cut out to be a leader... he says he is weak."

Tugger felt fire swim up his chest and his tail lashed angrily. "Well he is _wrong_." No one insulted Munkustrap. _No one_. Especially his strength. "Who do you think it was who sent Macavity _running_ before he was murdered?" He threw in; it's not like the bloke had been there to _prove_ anything different. "And he gave _you_ a beating, didn't he?"

"They were Raithen's words, not mine!" He shakily whimpered. "I swear!" He pursed his lips. "I know he is merciful... he is a kind lad; he let me go free when I had no right to."

"I'm aware." That he had no right to go free, that is.

"But kindness will get you killed with Raithen, believe me. He cannot let his guard down."

"My—" Tugger avoided pointing out that they were brothers, in case the lad didn't know. He didn't need anyone coming for _him_ and getting in the way. "Our leader has better sense than that. Now you'd best be on your way before I change my mind about letting you go unscathed."

"Why _would_ you want to hurt me? I want to help!"

"Because you piss me off." He said plainly. That was good enough reason for him to want him dead. "Your very _presence_ pisses me off. Now get lost, or I'll make a carpet out of you." That seemed to work and the tom trotted off. Finally, when the beastly Jellicle was rid of the Copperkit's stench, he walked back to Mistoffelees, who had put the blanket over all of the collected items. "What are you doing _now?_ "

"One second... _Presto!_ " Mistoffelees flung the blanket off; the objects had vanished. "Makes carrying them back home easier." He beamed. Of course this time, the kit hoped they'd end up at the junkyard and not somewhere inconvenient... like the nearest dumpster again. Tugger nodded approvingly and told him it was time to go. "What did that guy have to say?"

"He works for those freaks that attacked my brother and sister-in-law... he says they still want to take the tribe, at least that's what he inferred. He says they just want to deal with it without anybody getting hurt again. Bloody wanker."

Mistoffelees creased a brow. "He works for them and he told you this?"

"My brother let him go free, so I guess he's reformed... whatever it is, I still don't like him."

"I think he knows more than what he's saying." Mistoffelees mused, looking at the ground as they walked. "If he _really_ wanted to show he's loyal, then he'd tell us when and where they plan to strike next or at least offer some sort of direct service... at least that's the basic etiquette _I_ believe in." Rum Tum Tugger, though not one-hundred percent agreeing with the kit, knew that what he was saying had some truth to it. Indeed, maybe he _did_ know more than what he was saying. Either way, they both knew that they couldn't trust anybody but each other... and their family, of course.

...Well, they _were_ family.

Tugger turned to him with a grin. "You're a clever cat, you know that?"

—

When he preened in the reflection of the broken car later that morning, he couldn't shake how much more his coat resembled his father's thick one this time of year, except much darker and more kempt. On top of that, despite his muscularity, Rum Tum Tugger was still smaller in frame than Old Deuteronomy was. Granted, he had no idea how big or small he might've been in his youth. It wasn't a question he cared to ask. The kitten queens had cooed at how 'regal' the Maine Coon looked with his overcoat... but the tom didn't aim for regal. He aimed for wild and free.

If his antics didn't make that clear by now, nothing would. He never cared how 'unbecoming' they were for the son of a tribe leader. Though these days, with the sun gone and the grounds either too icy and the weather too brisk to do any traveling, he found himself trapped in his quarters. On top of that, Rum Tum Tugger just wasn't, as he'd put it, _feeling_ it. Even when he opened his eyes in the morning, the most he'd want to do is roll over into a more comfortable position and sleep some more. Skimbleshanks had said he'd seen it in humans; they called it 'seasonal depression.'

But Tugger wasn't depressed! He was just... unmotivated. He didn't even care enough to go out at night to flirt any queens and 'keep them warm.' If he were still a kitten, he'd be loving this weather right now. He'd be rolling around, ruining his coat, wiggling his tush and tail (a movement he would soon perfect) with a big, toothy smile. That had been his cruel nickname, after all. Toothy Tugger. At least until he lost his baby teeth.

While most five-year-old kits would take the nickname to heart, the tom was unimpressed. _That's_ the best they can come up with? On top of that, even at such a tender age, Tugger knew better. The other toms just wanted to get a rise out of him, and so he'd simply leave and go find something else to do. He was too busy crawling between his brother or father's legs or pouncing onto their backs anyway. Munkustrap and Old Deuteronomy had always been so patient with the fiery kit who never wanted to stop jumping on them and practicing his pounce.

"Did I scare you that time?" He'd ask excitedly.

Old Deuteronomy, without even flinching or looking up from the book he was reading, would say, "Oh yes, definitely!" And the kitten would swish his tail and climb up onto the box for another leap onto him. Tugger had been six and Munkustrap ten when the more distinguishable characteristics of their personalities came out. The Egyptian Mau had outgrown his more silly and playful ways while the Maine Coon showed no signs of changing, and he remained ever-fearless. Munkustrap had _always_ been the more timid and shy one while Tugger was bouncing and greeting everyone that came by.

When Munkustrap was a small baby, he'd hide his face into his father's shoulder from everyone that wanted to say 'hello.' Tugger would coo with a big, wet smile. Old Deuteronomy would say he was a flirt from the moment he was born.

Tugger leapt onto the gigantesque tom's back again, but this time he clumsily rolled off, making himself dizzy. His eyes rolled around for a second before he regained composure. "Did I— Did I getcha?"

The Norwegian Forest cat bit his lip to subdue a laugh. "Yup! Sure did."

Tugger curiously climbed onto his back, pressing a paw down on Old Deuteronomy's head and flattening the latter's ears. "Whatcha reading?"

"A book that some humans were about to throw away."

"Can I look at it?" He came forward a little but then his paw slipped and he somersaulted off his father's head and landed right on his bottom in front of him.

"I don't think so, my boy. This book's for _big cats_ only." Old Deuteronomy raised a brow, clearly toying with him.

Tugger stood up straight. "I _am_ a big cat! I'm gonna be as big as a leopard one day!"

"Mhm." He turned the page.

"You'll see! I even know how to hunt like one!" He got low to the ground and prowled closer despite Old Deuteronomy already knew he was there. "I'm gonna stay low to the ground, take really slow steps forward and then... POW!" He jumped at his father and chomped on his ear, not having any sort of effect. "I'll chew them to bits and pieces!" He said with his ear still between his teeth.

"But if you're as big as a leopard, you won't fit here in the junkyard." Old Deuteronomy said, grinning. "You might have to go live in the jungle with them."

All of the sudden, the kitten looked mortified. He let go and shook his head. "No, no, no!" He then squeezed his little body in between his arms. "I wanna stay here with my comfy papa and my comfy brother and my comfy pillows and blankets!" He said as he pressed his head into his father's chest, being drowned in his fur.

Old Deuteronomy set the book down and used one paw to rub the kit's back. "All right." He tried not to laugh.

Tugger, immediately reassured, hopped out of his arms and trotted around in circles, chasing his tail. "If I'm gonna be a leopard, Munkustrap's gonna be a cheetah, because he's super, _super_ fast like one! No one's faster than my brother!" He then got a question. "What big cat are you, Papa?"

"I'm a Norwegian Forest cat. I'm already big."

"No! Big _wild_ cat! I say you're a lion, because they're the kings of big cats! And you're strong and brave like them!" He boasted proudly.

Old Deuteronomy smiled at him and ruffled the kitten's head. "You're a good boy." Rum Tum Tugger swished his tail happily and nuzzled his face into Old Deuteronomy's chest. But then he saw Munkustrap coming home from helping Jennyanydots and eagerly ran to him. The silver kitten would be equally happy to see him.

—

Tugger had Tilikum in the crook of his arm; he was looking up at him with big, cerulean eyes that refused to close to nap. Sophitia and Aéras had been so easy to get to sleep, but he supposed Tilly had a hidden stubbornness about him. Although it wasn't rare for him to have some time with the kittens, he'd not yet mastered the art of getting them to nap. He didn't know how Demeter or Munkustrap did it. He made a deal with his brother that he'd take care of the kittens if Demeter took his place during that week's meeting. He was just too drowsy to pay any attention to anything... though he'd neglected to inform Munkustrap of the 'information' he'd received that morning. In all honesty, who cared?

Those fiends didn't stand a chance against the Jellicles; they'd proven that twice now. He would let it worry him when it was time to.

"Come on..." He whispered, a little ready for a nap himself. "I know you're tired, _you_ just don't know it yet." He said to the grey kitten. He couldn't even shift his position since his other two siblings were bundled up on both sides of him, purring in their sleep, Aéras clutching his 'poo bear.' God, Tilikum looked just like Munkustrap. It really unsettled him. It felt like he'd gone back in time and was holding his own big brother in his arms. They were somehow so enamoring; their tiny faces, paws, and feet... but with big, mystified eyes. With a tiny purr, Tilikum rubbed his face against Tugger's leopard-spotted chest and he realized he was finally making some progress. "Yeah... I thought so." He smirked, giving his chin a gentle stroke. He felt like there was a step he was missing... oh yes!

 _For one so small,_  
 _You seem so strong_  
 _My arms will hold you,_  
 _Keep you safe and warm_  
 _This bond between us_  
 _Can't be broken_  
 _I will be here_  
 _Don't you cry_

 _'Cause you'll be in my heart_  
 _Yes, you'll be in my heart_  
 _From this day on_  
 _Now and forever more_  
 _You'll be in my heart_  
 _No matter what they say_  
 _You'll be here in my heart_  
 _Always_

Although the tomcat fought hard to keep his eyes open, soon he was asleep as well, bundled up in the warmth that was his uncle's coat. Tugger lied back to get more comfortable, knowing he wouldn't be going anywhere for a while; his arm was already dead. Despite he had no reason to be, the Maine Coon was exhausted, and the moment he let his eyes blink closed, he knew he'd conk out _with_ the little kits. For some reason he wondered what little kittens dreamed about... Lord knows he couldn't remember that far back to what his kittenhood fantasies were. Probably their mummy and daddy, if he were to guess; the two cats they saw the most. He wondered if they felt as safe falling asleep with him as they did their parents... they seemed to cuddle up to him just the same. The only cat Tugger would cuddle with at their age was his brother... for some reason he just made him feel so loved and protected. Yes, their father did as well, but his big brother gave him different feelings of security.

Munkustrap seemed to naturally have that effect on any kitten he interacted with. The natural instinct to look after and take care of them. Meanwhile, it was Rum Tum Tugger's instinct _not_ to fall asleep in the position he was in—he dreaded that he might accidentally roll over on top of one of them and suffocate them, despite they were big enough to squirm out. And plus, one could wander away if he wasn't paying attention... He knew _he_ would if his kittensitter wasn't watching him. Granted, he didn't have any aunts or uncles... just his father. The closest he had to one was maybe Skimbleshanks, though he treated him more of a grandkitten than a nephew. Perhaps they _knew_ he was someone that would keep them just as safe from harm as their mother and father and knew they were just as loved by him as they were their parents...

...Except Tugger knew his 'love' could never compare to their actual parents'. Yes, he would die for them in a heartbeat... but at the same time, they weren't _his_. But they were his _brother's_ kittens, and therefore not so far from being his own. If anything were to happen to them...

With this profound thought in mind, he planted a soft kiss to Tilly's forehead, careful not to wake him. He wouldn't dare let such an idea cross his mind again.


	25. Courtship

**Munkustrap**

The silver and black tabby had been but nine when he went to his first meeting with his father. He was supposed to just listen in, but it had not gone well. Old Deuteronomy's council had complaints about everything, including the weather in which he had _no control_ over. It was during a small gap between conversation that the toms turned their attention to little Munkustrap, who wasn't paying attention at all.

He was using his tail to draw his name in the frothy, iced ground below, though not very successfully. He'd always been a quiet, precocious young kitten that never caused any trouble, but at this moment when his only instructions were to listen intently, he did not obey. Not out of spite... but because he was a child. He wanted to play in what little snow they would get all year. He instead used his claw to draw the 'M' shape he had on his own forehead. The mark of the scarab, humans called it.

One of Old Deuteronomy's advisors cleared his throat and looked at him. The large tom then sighed, "Munkustrap, what is it that you're doing?"

"I'm writing my name in the snow, Father." He said in his small voice.

"You should be listening to what your father is saying, young man." Said the advisor.

"I _am_ listening."

"I think this meeting is over anyway." Old Deuteronomy said to the toms and sent them away, looking back at his son. "My boy." He said in his clear, deep voice. It was then that the kitten looked up from his artwork with his big, blue eyes at his father. "I told you to keep still and listen." He told him.

"But I was still, and I _did_ listen!" He replied sadly.

"Well, next time you'll make it _clear_ that you are. All right?" He asked in the gentlest voice possible.

"Yes, Father..." And as their lessons progressed, Munkustrap got to spend less time making shapes out of leaves and seeds and playing with his friends and more time accompanying his father on his duties and getting used to being in the presence of adults. Munkustrap began learning how to sing properly; though he could only practice if he thought everyone was out of hearing range.

One day, he sang _Where Is Love?_ A song he'd learned by ear, but when he turned around and saw his father, Jennyanydots, _and_ Jellylorum standing there, smiling broadly and clapping, he was too modest to return their gaze. Dancing felt more natural to him, as did telling a story in song _or_ speaking regularly. Then again, were songs _not_ stories in their own right? Perhaps if he thought of it _that_ way, he wouldn't be so nervous about performing it in front of anybody. Music soon became like a second language to the Mau. He still felt uncomfortable in the eyes of so many different adult cats looking at him, but it was what his father saw everyday... meaning it was what _he_ would be seeing everyday.

He'd sometimes look wistfully at his friends playing without him; not so much out of jealousy, but curiosity. He wondered if they had so many things on their minds as well... but they seemed as carefree and relaxed as ever. Munkustrap would sometimes think they'd forgotten about him and didn't want to be his friend anymore because of how little he got to see them.

Strangely of all, he began to miss his own little brother, who seemed to smile less and less with each passing month.

The kit eventually started to get bad dreams about his father yelling at him, saying he was disappointed in him, being given instructions that were maddeningly impossible to follow. His brother not remembering who he was were the worst parts of them. Sometimes it'd be so much that Munkustrap would wake his father to tell him, but the only response he'd get was that they were just silly dreams and to go back to sleep. Old Deuteronomy _did_ , however, assure him that nothing that happened in those dreams were possible, and that he could never be disappointed in his boys, bringing him _some_ relief.

But naturally, as he turned from a young, playful kitten into a reserved and self-conscious teenager, Munkustrap became increasingly uncertain of his priorities. He shared in the loneliness his own brother was feeling, but had no escape from his work to tell him this, or at the very least remind him that he was still important to him. Still, Munkustrap had the company of his father and the other older cats... Rum Tum Tugger had nobody his age to spend time with. If only he'd been more assertive about having some time with his brother, Munkustrap would think today, then he wouldn't have gotten so hateful and defiant when he got older.

It was too late to change any of that now, and at the time, _neither_ of them knew any better. Munkustrap just loved to see his superiors happy with him; it made him feel good to know he served so well. He was a hard worker, and found himself taking a liking to his rehearsals and other practices around the tribe. Sometimes he'd neglect singing the songs he'd been instructed to practice and instead whatever song he liked for his own pleasure, stealing _some_ time for himself without anybody watching for once.

Munkustrap didn't think his voice was refined or special, but in many years to come, his wife would tell him that his melodies would fill her with emotion she had not heard in song before. When certain that he was alone, his singing became more confident, more free. He hated how one day, he'd been so absorbed in the lyrics, he had to stop abruptly when Jennyanydots summoned him to his father's quarters.

He recalled the look his father had on his face; normally it was hard to tell just what he was thinking, but today Munkustrap sensed that he had something unpleasant on his mind. "What is it?" Asked the then-seventeen-year-old Munkustrap. The Scottish Fold queen left them to talk privately. "Dad?" He asked again, taking the older tom out of his thoughts.

"I've been speaking with one of my advisors—about your... _betrothal_."

Munkustrap's ears flattened. They'd conversed _briefly_ about the matter of him being paired off with a queen once or twice... and the grey tom would feel himself darken every time he thought about it. "Oh."

"His niece, you see, she's come of age. Well, she's _your_ age, actually. And we've thought about," he cleared his throat, "introducing you two." It didn't take a genius to figure out what he _really_ meant. Munkustrap nodded stiffly. "I've asked her to have tea with us tomorrow while she visits. I'm sure you two will get along." Munkustrap nodded again, still not saying anything.

When he told his brother this that same evening, Tugger could only scoff. "You're getting _married_ now?" Bemoaned the thirteen-year-old.

"I'm just gonna talk to her. That's all." Neither were looking at each other, both lying on whatever blanket they got to first.

"That's so stupid. Dad has to _bring_ a girl here just to get them to talk to you?"

Munkustrap glared at him with a creased brow. "Tugger, the attitude's getting old."

"It _is_ , though." Chided the Maine Coon. "There are lots of queens here for you to talk to."

"Well it wouldn't matter if I _did_ , Dad said I'm supposed to be arranged with someone."

"And I already said: that's stupid." He murmured.

"Whatever." Munkustrap sighed. "I'm sure she's nice."

"What if she's ugly?" Tugger said just to mess with him.

"It doesn't matter what she _looks_ like, Tugger." His eyes were already closed, attempting to drown out the pestering kit. Rum Tum Tugger gave him another snide comment, but this time the tabby chose to ignore him so he'd shut up. When he slept, Munkustrap had an unusual and somewhat muddling dream. It was his wedding day, though there was a small den made up in the center of the junkyard where a queen he'd never seen before was waiting for him. His heart dropped when he realized just _what_ she was expecting. Worse, everyone was looking at them.

Munkustrap hesitantly got on top of her, his paws shaking as he struggled to remember where he should touch her or what it would even _look_ like. He'd never seen a queen with her sex out before. His dream presented it to him as some sort of gaping hole where he slipped his own into. It throbbed and he tried to stifle a moan. He pushed somewhat gracelessly into her when someone shouted he was doing it wrong. It only worsened his anxiety. His heart raced even faster as he pushed harder. He was trying!

But all these eyes on him, it took away any ounce of concentration in him. He was close when he woke up; only he was immensely uncomfortable more than he felt pleasured and relaxed. He looked over at his brother with nervous eyes to see that he thankfully had not disturbed him. Munkustrap swallowed and did what he could to suppress the feeling. He rubbed his eyes as if to try and rid himself of the discomfort he'd felt in the dream; why had everyone been watching... worse, _was that_ what he was expected to do once they were mates?

God, he was waiting for the stress to finally kill him. He really didn't want to sleep after that, but he knew he'd need at least an _adequate_ amount of brain power for the following day.

—

When Munkustrap met the Manx queen, Philomena, he was... relieved to say the least. _At least she's pretty_ , he found himself thinking, though he quickly rebuked himself for having such a superficial thought. She had big, golden eyes and a brownish-grey colored coat. Old Deuteronomy's trusted friend introduced them, "My niece, Philomena."

"Philomena, my oldest son, Munkustrap." All the queen was given from the silver tabby was a bowed head and a deep blush. His worst fears would come true once the two adults left them alone together. Philomena found herself surprisingly chatty and comfortable once the strangeness of the situation passed. Munkustrap would only nod or give one-word responses. He was holding his paws together only because he was shaking so much.

"Are you shy?" She asked suddenly, making his already-existing blush worsen.

"No, um. I'm sorry. I've just... never done this before." He confessed bashfully.

"Done what? Talk to a queen?"

"Of course I have!" He said defensively. "I mean, you know that... my father wants us to..." His ears flattened.

"Mhm." She casually took a sip of her drink. "Well?"

"Well what?"

"Do you like what you see?"

Munkustrap looked at her, frightened and appalled. "I— What do you mean? You're _very_ attractive, if that's what you're asking..." He nervously looked away.

"I've been told that Jellicle Cats are quite the singers and dancers. Perhaps you'll have to serenade me someday." Munkustrap said nothing. "You look quite flexible, if I might say so myself."

"How?"

"You've got a nice, lean body. You _must_ take good care of it." Munkustrap was stumped as how to respond to that, so he kept quiet. "Make no mistake of it, when we're mates, I promise we'll—"

Munkustrap startled. "Wait, wait." He said in a sudden need to speak up. "You're saying you've already decided?"

"I mean, I don't see why not!" She sat her cup down. "It's not like you have any other choices waiting, do you?"

Munkustrap felt his brow crease and eyes narrow. Something about her tone had come across as very pretentious. And Munkustrap tried to give _everyone_ the benefit of the doubt. "I... _no_ , but, I'd like at least more time to consider this. It's not just _your_ decision."

As if ignoring him, Philomena stood up to pour herself some more tea. Munkustrap felt slighted. "I don't suppose you think your _familial_ ties make you any more entitled than the other queens here." He expected that had something to do with it; she was his father's advisor's niece. Munkustrap hid his irritation for now and let her get another drink. Already he began to feel weary of this Manx's 'company' if one wanted to call it that.

Philomena turned around, gazing at the tabby's soft-looking neck, fur preened and smoothed. Without thinking of what she was doing, she crossed over behind him and pulled on his collar so she could kiss it. Her tongue had lapped his fur out of place when he gasped and stood up, throwing her paw away from his hold. Munkustrap gave her a look of such reproach that it made her shiver.

Needless to say, the Egyptian Mau was not anxious to see her again. "What went wrong?" Old Deuteronomy asked, baffled.

"Nothing _went_ wrong, it's just that _she's_ wrong." He explained himself without looking at him, still feeling her slimy lips on his neck.

"How do you know? You only talked to her for fifteen minutes."

"Dad. Please, just trust me! I've trusted _you_ these past six years. I just can't look at her without seeing this self-entitled... spoiled..."

"Young man, I've told you that first impressions aren't always accurate."

"Okay." He said, forcing himself to agree. "But maybe it's just me." Old Deuteronomy cocked his head to the side. "I don't think I'm ready for a mate yet."

"The pairing won't even come for a few years! You'll have plenty of time to get to know her." Munkustrap kept silent, not in the mood for talking. He felt something inside him he hadn't before. His paws were balled into fists. "You'll have to be married at some point."

"Is it so wrong to let me choose my own mate?" He said loudly enough just so his father could barely hear him; it was Munkustrap's first act of defiance. "Someone who doesn't tell me they're entitled to have me because they're the best offer I'm gonna get?"

Old Deuteronomy sighed. "I'll have my advisors—"

"No!" Munkustrap exclaimed. "I don't want your advisors bringing me a queen I've never met before and expect me to fall in love with her on the spot." His voice was thin and soaring, stating his feelings clearly and without any hint of uncertainty. This had never happened before, and the grey tabby couldn't explain where it had come from.

"It's what we have to do as leader. We all make sacrifices for our tribe!" Shouted his father right back. "I had to do it and so will you!" Munkustrap had never felt so hurt by him before, and if his glossy eyes didn't show it, nothing else would."We'll find you the right mate." He said more calmly. "And in time you'll learn to get along. For now, go and do your lessons." He commanded him before leaving the tom in his den.

What had his father meant? Had he not sacrificed enough of his own wants for him _already?_ _When would it ever be enough?_ "I won't practice." He grumbled lividly. "I won't practice and I don't _fucking_ care!" He knocked over a pile of garbage and rubble that crashed as it hit the ground. "Blast and damn and bugger! Bloody, bloody, bugger!" He went on as if he were a kitten having a tantrum, holding his trembling fists close to his chest. Skimbleshanks had come walking by and saw the despondent teenager.

"Where are you going, young man?" He asked. Was he his boss now too? Fuck him. Fuck everyone!

"TO HELL!" And then Munkustrap blitzed off in a fury.


	26. Smile

**Bombalurina**

Bombalurina had still been in a state of amazement when she saw Rum Tum Tugger for the first time in nine years. The last time she saw him at that point, he was nothing far from a rowdy, reckless kit nearing his unpleasant years of puberty. Perhaps it was fate that she missed the transition period from kitten to adult just _so_ she'd be so mystified when she returned to the tribe.

Not to say Rum Tum Tugger wasn't handsome _then_ , or at the very least cute, but this was a time where sexual thoughts were non-existent to the queen and tom. Hard to believe such times existed _at all_. Bombalurina had herself noticed the undeniable favoritism Old Deuteronomy placed onto Munkustrap, monitoring his every move and ensuring he behaved properly at all times. Tugger, meanwhile, only got glances and brief gestures when he asked for his attention. She knew the old tom loved both his sons equally, but the _little_ one didn't! He couldn't comprehend how much responsibility it was to be heir and the requirements he needed to meet... thus so he could only conclude that Munkustrap was more important in their father's eyes.

She recalled that he was never without his big brother, pinned next to him with a wide smile on his face—that was something the young Bombalurina remembered; he was always smiling. That _was_ , at least, until Munkustrap had to start following their father around all day and night and the little Maine Coon was left on his own. He didn't seem to mind at first, but Bombalurina knew it was odd to see him spending _any_ time by himself. He was _always_ accompanied by his best friend, his silver sidekick.

Nowadays, he pranced around alone, sniffing about and exploring. If he tried to engage with the other toms, he'd become bored with their regular games and wander off, or they'd simply tease him for having nothing to do. Even _they_ admitted how cruel they were as kittens, though it appeared that Tugger either didn't remember or he'd already forgiven them by the time they were grown. She remembered the toms his age calling him Toothy Tugger, but Bombalurina thought the kit's large front teeth only added to his sweet look, though his smiles were less frequent these days.

She was fourteen when Rum Tum Tugger started getting left on his own, and the kitten of seven had started sneaking away from the junkyard to find other things to do. Old Deuteronomy would've been _furious_ to know his youngest son had started committing such an act at such an age, and the Somali queen knew this. Her sisterly instincts got the better of her and she followed him, ensuring he was never in harm's way, sometimes dragging him back when it was getting dark and it looked like he didn't intend on going home. He didn't like that she was always there 'kitten-sitting' and he'd more than once gone out of his way to make sure she lost him in the crowd, leaving her to sniff and search for hours.

"Why do you care so much? I'm not your brother!" He'd shouted.

"But we're in the same tribe, so _technically_ we're family."

"Not really." He argued. "Don't girls your age have anything better to do?" Bombalurina couldn't help but start laughing—it was amusing to hear such a thing coming from a then-eight-year-old. His ears flattened, _"What?"_

"You're so cute is all!" She pat his head.

Tugger flushed, "I am not!" He said, pulling away. "When I get older, I'm gonna be as big as a leopard. _No one's_ gonna mess with me!"

She arched a brow and humored him, "I'm sure you will."

"You just wait." He boasted, knowing sarcasm _very_ well since he had a brother named Munkustrap. "Anything that tries to get near the junkyard, I'll claw their eyes out! I'll get stronger than my brother, _then_ my Dad will see that I'm useful too!"

Bombalurina glanced at him. "What do you mean? He thinks you're useful."

"Then how come he's always telling me to go away when he's trying to teach Munkustrap something?" He pouted. "Munkustrap's better at _everything_ than me, but not hunting! He can't even fish without falling into the water!"

"I saw him catch a rabbit the other day; he's _fast!_ " She said teasingly.

He frowned at her, lashing his tail. "So what? I've caught plenty of rabbits! And birds! _And_ rats!" The kitten _may_ have been exaggerating, but Bombalurina let him have his victory. She sometimes enjoyed the little one's banterings and musings, having such an unfiltered opinion about everything since he knew she would never tell on him; the others were _very_ inclined to let his father know just what he'd said to them should they find it offensive.

Sometimes over the years, if she saw him brooding by himself, she would ask him if he needed someone to talk to, to which he'd either refuse or go on a long, angry monologue about how he hated his brother and his father... only to always later say in realization, "Okay, I don't hate them... _not really_." It was only a half lie. A ten-year-old still couldn't quite understand how powerful of a feeling hatred _really_ was. It was frustration he was feeling. Bombalurina told him that. She told him a lot of things in her seventeen-year-old wisdom that she hoped would make him feel better. In almost ten years, she'd be saying vastly _different_ sets of words to make him 'feel better.' But neither knew this at the time.

At _that_ age, Tugger had decided, "When I'm old enough, I'm gonna leave this place and never come back."

"Why would you say _that?_ " She asked, surprised.

"Because no one wants me here. It wouldn't change if I left. I wanna go somewhere else that's fun!"

At that, a profound thought struck the queen; she too had known something was itching her. That something outside of the West End was calling her. It was as if he already knew her future intentions... but encouraging him would only reinforce his belief that he wasn't needed, and that wasn't true. Bombalurina shook her head, "But what if when you're older, your family needs you?"

Tugger scoffed. "He won't. He'll have _Munkustrap_ anyway. He does _everything_ Dad tells him. _Housepet_."

"I don't think that's true. You said you're a better hunter than him, aren't you?" Tugger looked at her and nodded. "Well, what if he needs someone to scavenge the food? Aren't _you_ the best cat to ask?"

He swished his tail and rested his head on his arms. "I _guess_."

"When you're older and if you still want to leave, that's fine... but right now, _you_ ought to stay put!" She playfully flicked his ear to which he whipped his tail at her. "Of course, if I tell you to do _anything_ , you'll just to the opposite."

"It's a habit." He said dryly. Bombalurina snorted and had to cover her own mouth to hide her laugh. _"What?"_

"You're still so cute."

 _"I AM NOT."_

As much as she liked teasing the little kit, it was _he_ that helped her realize what had been bothering her for so long. There was something missing in her life and she wasn't sure what, but she'd never find out if she stayed there forever. When Bombalurina asked Old Deuteronomy if she could take her leave without abandoning her title as a Jellicle, he accepted graciously and Bombalurina hurriedly gathered her things and said her goodbyes to everyone... including Toothy Tugger, who she confessed she would miss. Not even the other adoring toms compared to how wanted she felt in his company. She knew he liked her there because she listened to him, and he too would listen back, though she never knew if he took her words to heart or not.

Part of her also wanted to admit that she almost _wanted_ him to beg her to stay, but he did not. Although he looked a little troubled at her announcement, he only said, with more curiosity than sadness, "You're going?"

"Just for a little while... Remember you said you'd like to see different places when you grow up?"

"Well," his tail and ears went low without his knowing, "when will you be back?"

"I can't say." She shrugged. She saw in his jade eyes a hint of discontent, so she grinned and said, "I'll miss you." And it was then that he winced.

 _"Me?_ Why?"

She giggled, "Because you're so cute, of course." Instead of going berserk over the term again, he only replied with a look of dismay. "Things are going to get better for you, trust me."

"How do you know?"

"I just... do. _Old_ people know more than young." She winked.

"...Bomba?" He said lowly, eyes fixed on the ground. "Thanks..."

Her ears pricked up curiously. "For what?"

"For... being my friend." He finished uncomfortably. Her heart was moved upon hearing him say such kind words.

She stepped closer and ruffled his head. "Goodbye, beastie." She was tempted to kiss his cheek, but that would be too cliché, she thought. Besides, she'd be back. And her curious beast would be there waiting for her.

But by the time she returned, the big-toothed little kitten she knew had left, and a striking, rebellious, and charismatic young tom had taken his place.

—

"You wouldn't _believe_ how beautiful the buildings are in Brussels!" Bombalurina was saying to Exotica and Cassandra the morning after her return; the Havana Brown and Siamese queens were simply anxious to know! They all sat together and shared breakfast. "Of course, Antwerp was enchanting too!"

"I can't believe you didn't like Paris the best." Said Cassandra with some disbelief. "Did it really not live up to it all?"

"Oh, no! Paris was divine! It's just I'd rather _visit_ than live there, unlike Amsterdam. I stayed in the neighborhoods by the canals. But really, you _need_ to travel before you get too settled, because it's truly one of the best experiences I've ever had..." She trailed off when she saw the Maine Coon himself prowling by, clearly something on his mind. Bombalurina couldn't help watch, not that the other queens beside her hadn't either. She saw a funny twinkle in Cassandra's eye, however, a specifically knowing one. "I can't believe how... grown up he is."

Exotica said, "That's what happens when you're away for almost a decade." They saw Tugger leap over the fence in a single move and then stride away. "Where's he off to _now?_ "

"He's all grown up, but he hasn't changed." Laughed Bombalurina. "I wonder if he's got a secret girlfriend or something." And then the Siamese snorted; Cassandra guzzled down her drink so she wouldn't bust out laughing. "What?" Smiled Bombalurina.

"Sorry," she wiped her mouth, "it's nothing."

Exotica shook her head at the young, gorgeous queen. "Just the _name_ Rum Tum Tugger melts her and every other queen here. The young ones are absolutely _crazy_ about him. Of course, I'm not _blaming_ them." She shrugged.

"He finally grew into those teeth of his." The Somali snickered. "Well, he technically _lost_ those big kitten teeth and got a new, nicer pair."

"I wonder if they can _bite._ " Suggested Cassandra with a flirty edge. The red queen raised a brow at her; she was acting almost as if she _wanted_ to imply something to her.

"Can you speak any Dutch, Bombalurina?" Asked Exotica, caring more about the things her old friend had seen and learned on her journeys.

Bombalurina smirked. _"Ik veronderstel dat ik een beetje heb geleerd."_ She replied with the accent and all; she honestly impressed herself with how much she'd picked up and how much she could remember. Of course, the relatively phlegmy noise in some of the words weren't always pleasant to make, but soon it became so natural that she no longer noticed it. "You learn a thing or two after living there with flatmates and humans that love company."

"So you were partying all day and night?"

"Mm... Not really. I mean I liked spending nights out, but once you're a resident for so long, you get content with just staying home, funny enough. I'd still occasionally train back to France or Belgium every now and again." She remembered her annual visits to the Cathedral of Our Lady and Antwerp Zoo, as well as her trip to Lyon with her old flatmates. "Really, the best part about being single and without kittens is you can just pick up and go wherever your heart desires!"

"Yet you came back."

"Of course I did. Even _I_ found myself missing home every so often. It'd be a lie to say there wasn't some occasional culture shock every now and again." She laughed. "Oh, also, we once cut through Luxembourg when coming back from a trip. We went to see Vianden Castle."

"What made you stop there?" Asked Cassandra.

"We missed our usual train and had to take another. We were only there for a day." Bombalurina spoke as though she'd seen _everything_... to _these_ queens who had never seen the outside of London, she had!

Exotica asked, "Do you remember any French?"

"Uh..." In reality, Bombalurina only spoke a handful _while_ she was there! She tried to recall some of the phrases she knew by heart. "Just a few things like 'Hello, goodbye, thank you, my name is, where is this place,' those kinds of things."

"It can't be fun having to learn a new language."

"Oh, but it is!" She smiled brightly. "You feel like you've been living there your whole life once you start speaking their language and knowing the streets by heart." Bombalurina loved to talk about her journey, but it was bizarre to think how, just nine years ago, she was just a nervous eighteen-year-old queen stepping off the train... and then hours later she was along the roof of a building seeing the Eiffel Tower for the first time... and immediately she felt at home again. She couldn't believe the architecture, the buildings as old as the Jellicle Tribe itself... she was _walking_ on another tribe's history. She felt like she was in a musical when she even got to hear Notre Dame's bells ring one morning.

...And now she longed to be there again, on her own. While she liked being _on her own_ , she came back only because she started to feel lonely without her family with her. Perhaps one day she would go back... and maybe she'd take a certain someone with her.

* * *

 **Munkustrap**

The Egyptian Mau, though he could appreciate the days where nothing threatened his tribe, was growing tired of doing nothing that made him feel like he was actually protecting them. He'd had enough patience with waiting to see what Raithen was to do next, and he was feeling tempted to go out there himself and kick him all the way back to Hammersmith if he was still around.

The only things that brought him any joy were his mate and kittens, and even his little brother. He needed no one else's company. His love for his tribe had not changed, but as the dead became more and more unbearable, the more he wished they could disappear along with his responsibilities to them... but he'd be angry with himself for even letting that thought cross his mind.

He came back from the day's meeting with Demeter to see Rum Tum Tugger nodding off with Tilly in his arms, and Sophie and Aéras on either side of his hips. It was such a strange sight to see, knowing his own brother, yet so precious that he almost didn't want to let him know they were home. Rum Tum Tugger felt the chill of the air flow into their den and he stirred his head a little and blinked his eyes open to see his brother and Demeter had returned.

"Were they any trouble?" Demeter asked in a whisper.

"No." Tugger carefully and tenderly handed Tilikum to her, where she cradled him and reclined back onto the blanket. He, in the slowest movements possible, crept out of the den with Munkustrap. "How'd it go?"

"Fine enough. Mungojerrie showed up and Alonzo didn't complain, so that was a plus. In fact, _nobody_ did."

"Did anyone have anything useful to say?"

Munkustrap sighed, "Not really. Honestly, I _wish_ they'd report another sighting so at least _I'd know_ we're under siege."

Tugger looked at him, wincing. "No one's 'under siege,' it's just... negotiating." He tried to calm him, but Munkustrap only glared at him with disbelief. Of all cats, _he_ was the one saying that? Tugger looped his thumbs under his belt and proceeded to walk with him. "I'm just trying to keep you calm."

"I _am_ calm." That was very much a lie. Tugger knew this; _everyone_ knew this. "I just almost _wish_ I could see him again so I could get my paws around his skinny little neck and wring it into tomorrow!"

"Relax!" His cold statement was enough to make him cringe and flatten his ears. "You put Plato and Alonzo on perimeter duty?"

"Yes?"

"You scented every storm drain close by already?"

"Yeah?"

"Then you did your part, bro. You're looking out for us. Now, why don't you go spend some time with the wife while the kits are asleep?" He winked and waltzed off. Munkustrap sighed, but felt a grin tug at his lips anyway. He joined Demeter in the den as she tucked in their three kittens to keep them warm; they were bundled up to each other, purring and ears twitching.

He lied back with Demeter resting in his arms, content just to watch their kits. In all honesty, Munkustrap _really didn't_ need anything else in the world to make him happy than what he had in front of him. If only the rest of the world could disappear. He kissed the crown of Demeter's head. "You're so beautiful." He told her in a low purr.

"So are you." Demeter replied with a rather sultry smirk. She earned a shy smile, only for him to sheepishly turn his head away. She pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek in response. "I don't think things could be more perfect."

 _They could be._ Munkustrap found himself thinking. _I could've told those wankers to get lost the first time I saw them, then we wouldn't have had any problems._ But he wouldn't say that out loud; not while Demeter was feeling so happy.

"When I was a kitten," Demeter began, "the girl insistently carried me everywhere; she never wanted to put me down even if I protested. I was scared I'd never get to _walk!_ "

"Who wouldn't want to carry you around?" Munkustrap found himself in the mood to flirt. "You're just so small and light, and it feels nice to hold you."

"Were _you_ as small as Tilly is?"

"You'd have to ask Jenny or Jelly about that, or _any_ of the older cats. They'll tell you all sorts of embarrassing stories, I'm sure."

"They couldn't be embarrassing." Demeter replied. "Honey, I think you did the right thing inviting Mungojerrie to your court. I think he's going to be a big help in keeping the Copperkits and anything else away from our tribe."

Munkustrap grimaced again. "I _hope_ there won't have to be anything else we keep away."

Demeter didn't want to stress him out even more, but these were, unfortunately, the kinds of things they'd have to keep in mind. "Munkustrap, there probably will be. But what I'm saying is I know you'll always be ready to handle them." She rested her cheek to his chest. "Like you always are." She purred. The tabby had nothing in response; to be fair, when _did_ he to such comments? He just did what he knew to do. It was what his father taught him. Smile, stand up straight.

Munkustrap grinned at his mate, sitting up ever so slightly.


	27. Desperation

**Mungojerrie**

Mungojerrie twisted from his sleep, waking with a shocked gasp and a pounding heart. It had been ages since he last woke like that, unable to breathe, drowning in his sheets with his sister's paw on his shoulder.

She didn't need any sort of evidence to know what the nightmare had been. "Hammersmith?"

He nodded glumly. "I need air." He moved out from under his blanket and opened the flap of their tent to let the cold breeze bathe his body. Rumpleteazer came close and rubbed his arm again.

"Brother, I'm here." She told him.

"You always have been."

"And I always will be." She replied fondly and sweetly. She kissed his head before crawling back to her side of the tent to return to sleep.

The twins knew that while they briefly _lived_ in the pasture that they'd resided in, they were never true Copperkits. In fact, they _saw to it_ that they would never be. The old pasture might haunt his dreams, but the West End was their life now, and the Jellicles were their family. Raithen had plainly said it to his face! "You're smart."

He should've realized what that actually meant: he was a threat to him. He was smart enough to _recognize_ the danger Raithen was to his own followers... or hostages, as Mungojerrie came to see them as. That's all he and his sister were. Rumpleteazer had even tried to quote Victor Hugo to assure herself that Raithen was simply an aged, withered cat who only wanted company. _"_ _Look not at the face, young girl, look at the heart. The heart of a handsome young man is often deformed."_

Only Raithen's heart was as ugly and deformed as _he_ was. Rumpleteazer knew so too... but if they wanted to survive, they had to act as dumb as the others were. She told her brother this, and though it was the truth... he didn't like his potential being underestimated. Perhaps it was his inner-pride speaking, but he'd been young and foolish at the time. When it occurred to him that the Sphynx had come to see him as a challenge... Mungojerrie found himself sort of _liking_ the idea. He felt powerful; intimidating. No, he didn't necessarily _want_ or _need_ power, but did it not feel good to obtain? There were lots of things the Bengal tom thought felt good... even if his conscience knew he _shouldn't_.

He recalled the night he'd been dreaming of a monster, a very real one. One that was hitting his sister, hurting her. He tried to run to her, but he moved as if he were thousands of meters beneath the ocean, and every effort he made to spring forward between them was met with unspeakable pressure fighting against him. Rumpleteazer screamed and her fur was thick with blood. The _thing_ that had dared to harm her then turned its head slowly towards him, and when its thick, molten eyes met his was when he woke.

He didn't scream like he had today, but Mungojerrie was shaking, having never been so afraid... until he realized that he was _still_ in the farmhouse in Hammersmith where the threat lied. He also dreamed about Ixion, that his voice was far down in the well pleading for his help, saying to come down to Hades with him. The young tom fought hard to maintain a grip on reality and focus on keeping things as they were: tame.

Tame was the most _preferred_ condition one could ask for with the Copperkits.

The more he looked in the mirror, the more dull and lifeless Mungojerrie looked. But appearances were not his priority. He came across Rumpleteazer, who was of course with Axel, about to have a meal together. "So if you had kittens, what would you name them?"

"Oh, simple! Esmeralda from _The Hunchback of Notre Dame_ , and Eponine from _Les_ _Mis_ _é_ _rables_!"

"What if you had a boy?"

"Oh, I just _know_ it's going to be twins like my brother and I. And I've worked it all out. I'll have two girls, and when Mungojerrie has a mate, she'll have two boys!"

"But what if it doesn't happen like that?"

"I'll love them all the same!"

Axel laughed and poured himself a cup of tea. Mungojerrie walked by just in time to see him pour Rumpleteazer a cup as well, pouring something he couldn't see into it and then stirring. "Thank you." She said and as she was about to take a sip, Mungojerrie raced in like a horse pulling a chariot and knocked it out of her paw, smashing it all over the floor. "Ah!" She cried, "Bloody Hell, Jerrie!"

"What'd you dose that tea with, huh?" Mungojerrie demanded in an angry, scared voice. "What were you trying to give my sister? Answer me!"

"Sugar!" Exclaimed Axel, disgruntled. He even went over to show him the pouch. "Your sister asked to make her tea sweeter so I did!" It was then that Mungojerrie became all the more flustered by his actions and left the room.

Rumpleteazer came into his room that afternoon and found him sleeping... or at least pretending to be. "What the Devil was that all about?"

"I'm sorry." He said half-heartedly. "I panicked."

She and closed the door behind her. She even grabbed a blanket and stuffed it against the crack underneath the door, blocking any sound that could get out. She sat with him on the bed. "Brother," she began in a low, quiet voice, "I know you worry for me, and it comforts me that you do, but you've got to stop thinking _everything_ Axel does means to harm me! He'll think ill of you!"

"Who cares if he does?"

 _"I_ do, Jerrie, _I_ do!" She said crisply. "It's not just about him. If anyone here finds your behavior funny, they might throw us out. _Then_ where would be be?"

"I can't make this into a silly little game like you do," Mungojerrie said, sitting up and facing the wall, "I'm anxious, paranoid, and afraid to close my eyes at night!"

"I can't understand why." She said to him. She still had no idea how _truly_ dangerous these cats were. Mungojerrie kept daring himself to tell her everything Raithen had said, but he didn't want it to haunt her like it did him. "Why would they keep us here this long if they only wanted to hurt us?" Her words made him realize something. Rumpleteazer _was_ safe... he'd made it clear he wanted to keep her... so why would he off her? As for himself, he did not know. But once he'd had enough of her, _then_ what? What use did he have for _him_ once he started using his sister to...

"I feel sick." He said suddenly.

"You're not sick, just worried." Replied the seventeen-year-old queen. She frowned; it wasn't just his attitude putting her in a bad mood. She didn't like it when her brother was distressed. Rumpleteazer remembered something that might cheer him up... or at the very least remind him of a musical they both loved when times were _relatively_ easier.

 _Easy now_  
 _Hush, love, hush_  
 _Don't distress yourself_  
 _What's your rush?_  
 _Keep your thoughts nice and lush_  
 _Wait_

 _Hush, love, hush_  
 _Think it through_  
 _Once it bubbles then what's to do?_  
 _Watch it close, let it brew_  
 _Wait_

As she sang, rather hauntingly, Mungojerrie slowly sat up a little more, ears perking up. The Bengal tom _had_ been waiting... and he couldn't wait any longer for something horrible to happen. Still, her singing meant she was at ease with what was around her, so why not let her be? In fact... she'd reminded him of another song.

 _Nothing's gonna harm you_  
 _Not while I'm around_  
 _Nothing's gonna harm you_  
 _No, sir, not while I'm around_  
 _Demons are prowling everywhere_  
 _Nowadays_  
 _I'll send them howling_  
 _I don't care_  
 _I got ways_

He started to perk up for real, bringing a light smile to his sister's gloomy face. Though, as _Mungojerrie_ sang, the song sounded much more solemn and melancholic, though no less sincere.

 _No one's gonna hurt you  
No one's gonna dare  
Others can desert you  
Not to worry, whistle I'll be there  
Demons'll charm you with a smile  
For a while  
But in time  
Nothing can harm you  
Not while I'm around_

—

The sky was dark and damp and rain fell unendingly onto the pasture. Mungojerrie couldn't understand why on such days like this made him want to escape his warm abode the most. Perhaps because it meant it wouldn't be much of a chase between him and the Copperkits that might pursue them. While Rumpleteazer sat with him to have tea, Mungojerrie only stared out the window at the well, which would soon be full of water again... he wondered if any bodies or skeletons had sometimes floated to the surface during storms like these. He didn't know exactly how long it took to decompose, but he could imagine it being _some time_ with how cold it became in London.

"This place is haunted." He said suddenly.

"What do you mean?" Rumpleteazer asked, wiggling her ears.

"It's that well."

"I do agree it's a bit spooky. But it's just an empty well." She reassured. That well was _not_ empty, however—Mungojerrie knew that. Somehow, he wished it _were_ haunted, then he could ask the ghosts of the drowned cats if there was any chance of escape... then he'd know whether to give up or not. "I feel like it's watching me sometimes, though." Mungojerrie peeled himself away from the window seat and onto the bed. "I've liked getting some time to myself, but really, when's Raithen going to let me go hunting with you again? I miss the action."

"Soon I hope; I think he just doesn't want you to be as drained as I am."

Rumpleteazer decided to change the subject. "Wanna know what we should do if Raithen lets us spend the day out?"

"Hm?" Mungojerrie grunted as his response.

"We should go to the cinema. See a movie the way the humans do."

"How would we do _that?_ A cat can't exactly slink into a theater room past dozens of people."

"We sneak past groups of people all the time!"

"But they're not all crammed together in one space; the shop workers are normally spread out."

"Just a suggestion." She defended. "I miss our little film studies... I wish Raithen had a home theater, or at least more options to choose from."

"But then we wouldn't appear so educated to the others—they don't even know what cinema _is!_ " Chuckled the tom. Rumpleteazer smiled; as their talk about movies always put him in a better mood; their shared thoughts and opinions that only _they_ could speak of. It made the farmhouse feel _a little_ more like home again. With each other, the twins could make _anywhere_ feel like home.

—

By the time dawn came, though, Mungojerrie had been fast asleep when Rumpleteazer decided to rise early and sing some by the alder tree. Despite its menacingly dark bark and leafless branches, the queen still found beauty in it, especially since London had received some of the sun's grace instead of bitter rain that morning.

She did some of her vocal warm ups, not having any sort of particular song in mind to start her day with. She wanted to sing only for the sake of it; she'd been boundlessly cheerful these days compared to her brother. She couldn't help it—the teenager had fallen in love. She was still cautious of the well; the slippery, dewy grass made it all the easier to slip and fall in, and the last way she wanted to perish was by drowning in freezing water! She _did_ , however, dip her head in so she could hear her voice echo into the chamber. She got so caught up in her aria that when she stood up and turned around, she nearly bounced backward when she saw the Russian Blue standing there.

"I'm sorry, did I wake you?" She asked, recomposing herself. The look on Mosstail's face was unlike any she had ever seen before. She read something heinous in his eyes and said nothing more, staring back with some intensity. Rumpleteazer bowed her head and walked past him, steadily making her way back to the farmhouse which now couldn't feel farther away. She hadn't taken more than three steps when he grabbed her by one arm and tried to pull her back; but the queen was stronger than she looked and when she tugged away she only ended up bringing them both down into the grass with the tom now on her back. She tried to crawl, but she couldn't get away; the tree and well couldn't offer any service.

One paw pressed down into her shoulder and when she screamed, it was not Axel's name she shouted. "JERRIE!" The other paw grabbed her by the fur on her head and forced her into a twist so he could cover her mouth, both breathing heavily as they stared into each other. He'd waited. He'd been waiting long enough to have her. He did not care she was still seventeen. Raithen did not have to know as long as she stayed quiet... and he'd make her.

Rumpleteazer pushed and shoved but Mosstail pulled her by the waist away from the tree she'd grasped in desperation, as if it would save her. She could only whimper and whine in pain and terror—she was scared of what might happen if she tried to scream again. He pushed her down into the leaves and mud, face close to hers, he forced his paw violently between her legs, earning an ear-raking hiss from the queen. She turned herself this way and that, kicking at him, clawing at his arm so he'd retract from where he touched her. He had his claws around her waist again.

"YOU SON OF A BITCH!" Mungojerrie's voice rang through the pasture as he yanked Mosstail away with his own claws. For a moment Rumpleteazer could only lie there, realizing how much she was shaking and crying. Mungojerrie, empowered by the rage he felt, had the upper-hand on the tom and he raked his claws into his face and chest, leaving deep cuts. Rumpleteazer finally grabbed her brother to keep him from gouging Mosstail's eyes out.

"Don't!" She found the courage to say, "Jerrie, don't! It's not worth it!" And she was right—Raithen just might give _him_ the punishment for injuring him... Rumpleteazer, though shaken, had not any visible marks on her. He was shaking violently, more so than his own sister, "Don't give the lout the satisfaction falling to his level." She growled, still strong-willed even when victimized. Mungojerrie kept his teeth bared, claws deployed. If his sister weren't there, this would have had a different outcome.

Mosstail, meanwhile, only looked disappointed. "You're not as pretty when you're crying. I like you better smiling and laughing."

A kind of madness then took over Mungojerrie then, and he heard himself say, "We'd smile and laugh at the sight of your rotting corpse." Mosstail said nothing and stood up, shaking his fur out. Rumpleteazer only let go of her brother for just a moment to sit on her knees, too weak to stand.

In the corner of his eye, Mungojerrie could see the well, how it descended into nothing but darkness. All it would take was a shove, he told himself. He was standing right there, _right there_. _Do it_ , he told himself. _Do it right now._ Mungojerrie edged closer to Mosstail.

"Mate." Axel took his shoulder and forced himself _between_ the two toms. The moment was gone. The Serengeti calmly said, "Take your sister back inside. I'll have _him_ taken care of." Mungojerrie then took his sister into his arms and walked her back to their room where he held her as she cried. She was the only thing that mattered, and the Bengal tom would always remember this.

He sweetly sang to soothe her.

 _Nothing's gonna harm you_  
 _Not while I'm around_  
 _Nothing's gonna harm you_  
 _No, sir, not while I'm around_  
 _Demons are prowling everywhere_  
 _Nowadays_  
 _I'll send them howling_  
 _I don't care_  
 _I got ways_

 _No one's gonna hurt you  
No one's gonna dare  
Others can desert you  
Not to worry, whistle I'll be there  
Demons'll charm you with a smile  
For a while  
But in time  
Nothing can harm you  
Not while I'm around_


	28. Mother

**Mr. Mistoffelees**

Sauntering quietly towards the gates, Mistoffelees passed by Munkustrap's den. Curious to peek at the kittens, he looked inside by danging his head from the top of the box. Munkustrap had Demeter in his arms and their kittens were covered under a blanket between them. All asleep. They made a nice F-A-M-I-L-Y, he thought. Rum Tum Tugger was asleep under the broken car not too far away. It was unusual to see him there each night and not perched up in a tree in a park somewhere—he wanted to be there with the kittens. Mistoffelees thought Tugger might make a good F-A-T-H-E-R someday, since he was already a great uncle and brother, but he kept that to himself.

The tuxedo tom crept out by squeezing underneath the gate to the outside and met with Victoria. They had been meaning to take a late-night walk together, his first time going against the curfew. Victoria, however, was eighteen now, and so she probably now served as the 'adult' watching him. Her fur was nearly as white as the snow around them, so much that she could hide away in it should she need to. Mistoffelees liked the way she looked in the snow storm; her blue eyes radiated even more than they normally did.

When they were far enough so their scents couldn't be tracked by the other Jellicles, the two kits found a spot where they could kiss and nuzzle privately. It was the tom's first time experiencing such things; sneaking out, cuddling, his heart racing just from the touch of a queen. Victoria was the first cat Mistoffelees ever thought was B-E-A-U-T-I-F-U-L. Perhaps the first _anything_ he thought was such an adjective. And she danced B-E-A-U-T-I-F-U-L-L-Y.

Maybe one day he and Victoria would make L-O-V-E and _he_ would be a F-A-T-H-E-R. But kittens would mean he'd have less time for magic. When Victoria held him, it felt like its _own_ sort of magic, an unmistakably tangible one. One he couldn't describe, and he normally had a description for _everything_. They purred in near-perfect sync, it sounded almost musical. Anything Victoria did seemed musical. The way she walked, spoke, preened. The slightest twitch of her ears sent shivers through the kit's fur.

Mid-kiss, Mistoffelees pulled away when he got a chill up his spine. He sniffed the air; there were H-U-M-A-N-S coming. He tried to pull Victoria away so they could hide, but she wouldn't follow him; she wanted to show him he had nothing to be afraid of. A B-O-Y- and G-I-R-L came up to them, just barely catching Victoria peeking from the alleyway. They were about _their_ ages in human years.

"Aww, look, there's a cat!" Said the G-I-R-L, who took her H-A-N-D from the B-O-Y-'S to smooth out Victoria's fur. She put her ears back and purred at the scratches, but Mistoffelees remained hunched over in the shadows, his copper eyes glowed like a demon's in the night, revealing his position. "Look, there's another one!" The G-I-R-L came closer, kneeling lower to reach her H-A-N-D out, but Mistoffelees pressed his ears tightly against his skull, he was backed into the wall, reeling away as much as he could with a low growl.

Victoria mewed to him, trying to calm him.

"It's okay, I won't hurt you." She said, now sitting on her knees. That's what ALL H-U-M-A-N-S at the bad place said. They all L-I-E-D.

Mistoffelees' eyes were as black as coal now. His fur stood taller than the flames of Hell. She put her hand _closer_ , and that was a mistake.

 _ **HIIIIIIIIISSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!**_

* * *

 **Demeter**

The family was awakened by what sounded like a girl screaming; it was absolutely _agonizing_. Even the kittens were scared out of their sleep by it. Demeter had a chill; she gripped her husband's arm. "Munkustrap, what _was_ that?"

"I don't know."

The kittens were all looking outside the den; even _they_ could tell where the sound had come from; their ears and tails were wiggling. Munkustrap got up from under the blanket to step out, but Sophitia mewed worriedly and tried to follow him. Demeter picked her up and held her in her lap. "It's okay." She kissed the top of her head. "Munkustrap?" She called, concerned.

"Stay here with the kittens." He said before closing the flap to keep them hidden. She heard him talk for a moment outside with Rum Tum Tugger, who had heard the shriek as well. She had a feeling they would go to investigate the noise. In the meantime, she focused on getting the kits back to sleep, but they all only sniffed around and mewed for their father.

"He'll be right back." She told them, gathering them one by one into her arms. Still, they were determined to wriggle out and go look for him. They squeaked loudly as if trying to call out to him. She picked up one of their toys in an effort to distract them, which seemed to work as they all rolled around, taking turns nipping and pawing at it. Evidently _none_ of them would sleep before he returned, which she hoped wouldn't be long. She could nearly count the minutes that Munkustrap and Tugger were gone and the kittens were resting at her lap again, almost as anxious as her. She stroked their faces and backs, trying to ease them the best she could.

Demeter didn't take her eyes off the door, however. The closed flaps of the box that _served_ as them, at least. She was now wide awake and alert. Exhausted, but _awake_... somehow. It was the instinct of a mother to always be aware of when danger could be near... especially around her children. They were so big now compared to when she'd first held them. Still, size didn't change how helpless they were at this age, how innocent. And if they were as naive as she'd been... No. Demeter wouldn't let that happen. She and her mate would teach them well, but leave enough room to have _some_ wonder about the world.

The calico wanted to go look for Munkustrap to see what had been wrong, have one of the other caretakers watch the kittens, but she couldn't leave them, not even for a moment. _She_ was their mother.

Outside, she caught an unusual smell and the pattering of large paws. Demeter trembled just for a second. Her grip around the triplets tightened ever so slightly. That was not her mate, nor anyone else she knew. Slowly, in the most miniscule of movements, she pulled the blanket over the kits and slipped away so that she was crouched in front of them. Pulling the flap open was a Savannah cat with big yellow eyes.

Demeter slowly wrinkled her muzzle into a vicious snarl, fangs bared. She recognized him, and he recognized _her_. She knew just what the look on his face was saying: _she's a queen, she's no threat._ But he would regret underestimating her.

"I'll give you _one_ chance," said Nebula, remembering his instructions and what would happen _this_ time if he disobeyed, "move aside or I'll force you aside."

"No." Demeter answered coldly. "I will _not_." And instead of waiting for him to attack first, Demeter lunged forward and sank her teeth all the way to her gums into his cheek, rolling outside of the den into the snowy ground. Blood filled her mouth and she spat out flesh and fur.

Nebula was _furious_ now; his blood was smeared on the side of his face. _"You filthy bitch!"_

 _That was for Munkustrap_ , thought she, ready to pounce again if he dared come forward. She guarded the entrance to her abode and hissed ferociously. _She was their mother. She was Lady of the Jellicles._ Nebula swiped his claws at her and pinned her down onto her back; her arm sufficed enough as a shield, pushing away with all her might as he forced them deeper into her skin. His other paw, lodged into her throat, pushed more tightly, making it harder to breathe. Demeter twisted her head to the side and managed to get another piece of his flesh between her teeth. She bit down hard into his paw and Nebula grunted in pain. She ground her teeth together and tore at him, and all of a sudden he let go. His blood stained her ivory fangs once again, making her snarl look all the more menacing.

Nebula grabbed her by the fur on her head and slammed it into the ground. He breathed hard into her face, shaking. Her arm and his right paw were both slick with her blood. They both saw the shadow rush by before they saw its owner. Munkustrap made his leap just as Nebula turned to him, wrenching him away from his wife. He had his jaws clenching Nebula's head, biting _almost_ as hard as his wife had, ripping the fur off his scalp.

"Munkustrap!" She shouted, putting pressure on her wound. Her lips were still red from blood. The kittens were all shaking and crying for their mummy in the corner of the box. They realized their daddy was now in danger too. Finally, some help arrived. Alonzo and, to anyone's surprise, the Bengal twins came forward. But that wouldn't be necessary. Nebula turned to run, and Munkustrap chased after him. They were both out of Demeter's sight once again. "Munkustrap!" She yelled more desperately.

Rumpleteazer licked Demeter's wounds, but she didn't want her. She wanted her mate, her kittens.

"The..." She could barely breathe. "The kittens." She tried to twist around so she could see them, but Rumpleteazer didn't want her moving so hastily in her state.

"Easy!" She said and gingerly helped Demeter into the den where the three flew to her.

"Babies, I'm okay. Mummy's okay." Aéras sniffed her arm and started licking it, then Sophitia, then Tilikum. They'd learned from watching the adults care for her so tenderly. Just having them with her was enough to ease her.

Alonzo hurried inside. "Are you all right?" He asked in anxious pants.

"Yes."

Rumpleteazer continued inspecting her cuts. If _any_ cat knew what Nebula could do, it was her and Mungojerrie, who himself was peering inside. "Oh, sweetheart," said the Bengal queen, "you're going to have scars." The kits were now curious of their visitors and poked their noses at them. Demeter _just wanted them to sleep!_

"I'm fine!" Demeter insisted, sounding annoyed. "Please!" Mungojerrie backed away so he couldn't be seen and Rumpleteazer recoiled. Alonzo, however, wasn't so easily convinced. "What happened out there?" She finally asked.

"Mistoffelees attacked a human." Alonzo replied.

Demeter could not believe it. _"What?"_

"We tracked his scent where we heard the noise; a girl was bleeding and the boy with her was calling an ambulance."

"No..." Demeter mused. She in fact _wished_ he were here... these cuts might be painful, but they weren't serious enough that he couldn't heal them... or at least _close_ them. God, she could remember what Munkustrap looked like after Macavity went toe-to-toe with him... it was a miracle that Mistoffelees could even clean _him_ up. He was a healer... he wasn't vicious in the slightest! "Mistoffelees isn't like that! Where is he now?"

"Tugger went to look for him. He said there's no way he could've done that."

"What did Nebula want with you?" Asked Rumpleteazer, who seethed with repressed rage for the Savannah tom.

"I don't know. He told me to move aside... if he wants my kittens, then he'll have to kill me in all nine of my lives before he can take them!" At that, the Bengal queen abruptly stormed out of the den, unable to properly express herself in front of the kittens. Alonzo, though he would be guarding the den, gave Demeter her privacy as he went to check on Rumpleteazer.

Finally... Demeter had her babies in her arms again. She'd done her job for them.

* * *

 **Rum Tum Tugger**

 _"Kid?"_ He ran down the back fire escape of yet another building. He had to be here somewhere! The Maine Coon felt like he was just sprinting in circles at this point, unable to get so much as a _scent_ to track him. Mistoffelees had to have used one of his powers to cover his trail—he didn't _want_ to be found. But Rum Tum Tugger would. He suddenly knew the panic a brother might feel when their sibling was missing... he'd _already_ experienced the panic of believing he'd _lost_ one before, and he refused to let it happen again! The ground was slippery from ice and Tugger kept sliding with every turn he made, but his claws provided decent enough traction.

He saw down one of the trails leading to the motorway small paw prints. Tugger followed and along the way he saw a familiar white kitten that was often squealing during his performances. One that looked thankful to see him. The large tom walked over to see what Victoria was looking at; at last, he found Mistoffelees, shaking frantically. "Kid." He said softly. "What happened?" Mistoffelees had no voice... nor any marks or indication of violence on him. Tugger was right: Mistoffelees couldn't have committed the crime! "I know you didn't attack that human!" The kit looked up at him, guilty even though he didn't deserve to be.

"It was some other cat." Victoria spoke up. "A big, mangy one. Right after he jumped on the girl, he ran away. Mistoffelees did too."

"Do you think he was following you?"

"I don't know." She confessed.

"Misto, you have to come home and tell them what happened."

"I— I... I only hissed at her... I... I don't want to go back. They— They want to take me back to the bad place."

"You're not going back anywhere except _home_."

"Home..." Mistoffelees said as if it were the most magical word he'd heard.

* * *

 **Munkustrap**

Nebula should have known better than to believe he could outrun an Egyptian Mau, an _angry_ one at that. What's more, Munkustrap knew these roads like the back of his paw, and he recalled all the small shortcuts his brother had shown him so he could make his target an easy catch. He didn't realize how far out he'd chased him until he was pinning down the fiendish cat with his own front and hind claws. Even Nebula's yowling and squirming wouldn't convince him to let go, not until _after_ he clawed both of his eyes out!

His friends were one thing, his brother and mate were another, but his babies... mercy did not exist when it came to defending them. It seemed their duel would have no end until they were _both_ pulled apart from one another. Nebula by a Russian Blue, and Munkustrap by... "You..." He couldn't believe it, his eyes went wide. The tom he'd saved.

"I'm sorry... I didn't want to die." His claws were stained with blood that was not even his... just _what_ had he done? Munkustrap's eyes flared with betrayal despite not even _knowing_ him. He'd _trusted_ him! Was that not sacred enough?

Raithen came forward, who looked like he would _freeze_. No coat of any sort to protect him from the cold... and _this_ year hadn't been so easy on Londoners. That didn't take away the authority he was trying to exude one bit. "Good Lord, this got out of paw. Nebula, I told you _twice_ now there was to be no violence, not unless you were attacked first."

"I was!" He spat at the Sphynx, "This bugger's lunatic wife jumped on me!"

Raithen took another look at the missing chunk of flesh on his face, "You mean our _compeer_ here didn't do that?"

"No! Your mate's absolutely wankers, you hear me?" He shouted at Munkustrap, who couldn't hide a slightly smug look.

Even the bald tom had to sneer, "You let that tiny queen pounce you?" Nebula's gaze steered to the ground, grumbling. Raithen then looked at Munkustrap, who had _no_ desire to converse with him anymore. "And you, why do you suppose this all had to happen? Do you think I'm willing to let things like this go so easily?"

 _"You_ let go? You're the one sending cats here to _attack_ my tribe!"

"Trying to turn one of my own toms against me?" He eyed the very cat that was holding the tabby by his arms. "Your generosity towards him was a decent strategy, but in the end, he knows where his allegiance lies." Munkustrap flattened his ears out of irritation. He thought his kindness was a _tactic?_ Did he believe _nothing good_ was genuine? The Mau had nothing to say to him, nothing more on the subject. He just wanted this to be over.

"Raithen." The Sphynx poked his ears up. "This feud is unnecessary and one-sided. I had nothing against you when you first arrived, and if you're willing to leave us be, I'll let go _this_ time as well. I have _kittens_." He hoped to appeal to _whatever_ he might have inside that elastic shell he called a body. "They're all that matter to me right now, and all of this nonsense won't make their kittenhoods easy if you keep this up. I'm sorry I couldn't help your situation with your tribe, and I'm sorry you don't think I'm 'fit' to be my clan's leader... but frankly, I think you should go back to worrying about _your_ people as I will mine—" As he was speaking, Raithen had given the tom behind Munkustrap some sort of glare, and before he could finish his sentence, he felt claws jab into his back, stopping him short.

He cried out in both surprise and pain as he fell to one knee, only held up by the Copperkit behind him. With a tear forming in one eye from the shock, he looked up furiously at Raithen. What had he done to him? What had his _father_ done to make him hate him so?

"My lad, I really think you don't understand the full picture here. Yes, our kind _is_ dying out, but that's really not my main concern here. My main worry is seeing you step aside so that I can have the Jellicles under _proper_ rule."

"You can't." He found himself saying, but with another glint in Raithen's one good eye, Munkustrap knew he was about to regret speaking up. He was raked across his back, nails digging down into the flesh and fur. He didn't yell out; he wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

"Mate, if there's one thing I can't stand about you, it's that you're just like your father, the weak bastard." Munkustrap felt weak to his will; never had he so strong an urge to kill in his life. But Raithen _wanted_ him to get upset for saying such a thing of his father. Then he could torture him with it. He had to be silent just this once. "You ought to learn that trust is the most expendable of traits... look how much it's cost you! Fear is what binds people together. It makes them so much easier to keep on a leash. Look at _you!_ I can't count how many nights I've been reported that you barely slept a wink."

Munkustrap bit his tongue; not speaking up might hurt now, but it would be better than having bloody cuts to go home with... _if_ they intended to let him go home.

"Oh, think not of poor Old Deuteronomy. On behalf of that piteous bastard, you reunited us! Look at that!"

He. Would not. Speak.

"How about I make you one final deal, mate, since you're so fond of peaceful negotiations...?" Raithen licked his dry lips. "Either you hand me the crown and renounce your leadership, or I get to keep one of your young, celibate queens. None of those kits have been touched yet I can tell, and I'm sure they're all just about ripe and ready."

Munkustrap could shudder, utterly appalled and disgusted by the very notion. Those kittens were precious to him, and he could never hand over an innocent life. His silence should be answer enough, but Raithen was now demanding one. He felt claws trail across his cheek, but before they could slice him open.

"No, leave his face." He suddenly ordered. "Don't want to give his kits a fright." The cat removed his paw from the grey tabby's face and lodged into his side instead. Now Munkustrap fell to his other knee, hardly able to keep himself upright. Raithen knelt down, breathing into the tom's ear, "You listen to me well, comrade. I'll give you by the end of winter to make your decision. Either one of your young queens comes with us, or you give us the tribe and we have them anyway. Sacrifice one life or all of them." Munkustrap shut his eyes, this couldn't be happening. He didn't want to look at him. "If you decide to keep being defiant, we'll take our third option. I'll let my boys rape your pretty, young wife and take your innocent, sweet little daughter and raise her until she's ready to bear her own children."

That was far enough. The tabby could not listen to any more. _"You won't!"_ Munkustrap reeled towards him with all his might, but he was wound tightly by the cat's grip behind him no matter how much he writhed and squirmed. Raithen started to walk away, waiting until he was far enough for him to even try and dare to catch him, but Munkustrap felt something inside of him he had never before. No, this wasn't rage. It was something different. It was powerful. It couldn't bear to let him think he'd won. _"Do you know who you're talking to?"_ He shouted, wrenching free of the tom behind him.

Although he'd gone face-first into the snow below him, the tabby stood right back up, cuts and all, and shouted, "I am the heir of the Jellicle Tribe! I am the son of Old Deuteronomy and his blood runs through me! The next time you threaten my family with your poisonous tongue will be the _last time you speak at all!"_

And at his words, even Raithen was so stunned that he couldn't think of some sort of 'witty' response. He simply nodded at his toms that they were finished here. He'd said all he needed to and treated Munkustrap as though he'd only thrown some sort of tantrum. But the silver and black tabby meant everything he said. He chose to speak... and at last, he was happy for it.


	29. Surprise

**Munkustrap**

"Darling!" Demeter took her mate into her arms and instantly began to kiss his wounds, lapping the blood away. She dusted the snow off of his fur and wrapped him in her arms to warm him. "My sweet..."

"Don't worry about me." He begged, voice drained and weak beyond description. "Y-You... the babies..." He saw them nestled under the blanket, safe and unharmed. They were sleeping... and heaven knows he didn't want to wake them _again_. He was too tired to stand, so Demeter lied down with his head resting on her shoulder.

"They were scared, but it's all right now."

Munkustrap inspected the scratches on her arm; his precious mate... they'd hurt her. "What about _you?_ "

"I'm fine." She said assuredly. "They're just tiny cuts."

Munkustrap closed his eyes and nuzzled her nose, "I'm so proud of you. I wish I'd been here." He was even too tired to cry now—what was the use? Demeter could sense his sorrow and so she pressed his lips with a kiss. The warm, sweet taste that he could have lost forever. _Now_ came a tear. "Demeter, I should've been here." The calico cupped his face in her paws. "Every time I'm gone something bad happens—I'm supposed to take care of everyone."

"Stop blaming yourself for everything. You can't take care of _everyone all_ the time! It's _both_ our duty to take care of this family... And tonight, we _did_."

Munkustrap took in her words. She wiped the shy tears away from his bloodshot eyes. This was not the time to cry, something he'd done in abundance this past year. "Did Mistoffelees ever come home?"

"I don't know. I haven't left this box since you showed that beast the way out." Demeter noticed he was dozing, and so she diligently made themselves more comfortable. "Sleep, my love." She whispered. "Rest. It's all right now."

The silver cat closed his eyes, though he didn't _want_ to. His body told him to obey her request, but he fought it like a temperamental child. He couldn't sleep after what had happened. They might come back. That tom had lied to him; or if not, betrayed his faith in him. He'd been spying this whole time; he had to for Raithen to know that his kittens had been born, that he had a daughter, exactly when he left Demeter alone for just a few minutes.

Did everything outside those gates mean to hurt them?

No... Demeter had come from outside those gates, and so had the twins. They were his people, his family... they _all_ looked after each other... they all did. It was safe for now. Safe to sleep _just_ for a minute... He couldn't produce a single coherent thought; he _had_ to close his eyes.

But then Munkustrap dreamed about a violent Hell. One that was cold and dark. Where cats were lined up to be skinned alive so Death itself could harvest their souls. Where Munkustrap was forced to watch Raithen make good on his word as Nebula ravaged Demeter. He spread her legs apart and then wormed his way inside of her. She shrieks and he begs for them to spare her as she drifts farther away from his protection and leaves him writhing in pain and horror. Claws pierce through the ground and hold him prisoner. It was _his_ turn to offer his life to the reaper. He wails for her, the darkness starting to suffocate him as his shouts are answered by one of his kittens howling in pain.

No, Sophie! They had her! _They had his baby girl!_

He tried to scream for her, but a long-clawed paw coiled itself over his mouth and eyes.

Finally, with a piercing gasp, he bolted awake to the sound of his daughter's cries. Breathing rapidly and unevenly, he turned to her with wide, fearful eyes, and saw that she was not screaming at all; just wriggling and mewling in her sleep, which to a father was equally as horrifying. "Sophie! Sophie, shhh!" He quickly scooped her up in his arms and cradled her to his chest. "Shhh... It's okay! It's okay." He lovingly whispered to the whimpering waif, "Daddy's here." He looked around; his heart was thumping wildly. He saw Demeter resting with their two tom kittens in her arms, close to her face. She stirred a little at the noise, but didn't wake; she was exhausted. Tilly and Aéras curled up to her and Munkustrap let out a breath of relief.

Sophitia stopped shaking and she cuddled up against her father, relieved to be reunited with his familiar voice and scent. "Daddy's with you. Daddy's got you." He kissed the top of her head. The kit breathed more softly now. Everything that had happened tonight had scared her too. She was worried without her daddy.

Munkustrap carefully lied back down with her folded in his arms. "Did you have a bad dream?" He asked her. She sniffled into his fur. "Daddy has bad dreams too. I know they're scary, but it's all right; they can't hurt you." Sophitia looked back at him with tired, but reassured eyes. "Daddy's not going to let _anything_ hurt you or your brothers... I'm never going to let anything bad happen to you." He stopped for a moment, letting her take in his words. Somehow, the blue-eyed Mau just _knew_ that she understood him. "I'm going to protect you." He said. "I'm always going to be here to take care of you..." He blinked his eyes, trying to dissuade his tears. "I love you so much... and your mummy and your brothers and uncle. They all love you too." His eyes glowed with truth as he pressed a kiss to Sophitia's forehead. "You're so loved... You're always going to be loved." As soon as his eyes drooped closed, he knew sleep would come for him.

He could feel Sophitia rumbling – softly purring as her eyes began to sink. He liked her making noise; it reminded him that she was safe in his embrace. Nothing would touch her. Munkustrap would die before anything touched his mate and babies. And even so, he'd fight his way out of the heaviside layer into his next life just so he could protect them again. Nothing could tear the walls that were his devotion to them, his love for them. Heaven and earth could not make them quiver.

He felt something licking the tip of his nose and Munkustrap grabbed one final ounce of wakefulness to open his eyes and see that Sophitia was giving him kisses. Closing them again, he gave her the softest smile he could, hugging her closer.

* * *

 **Mungojerrie**

In the days following Mosstail's attempt on her, Rumpleteazer's soul had gone hollow; she did not sing, nor did she smile and laugh as much as she used to. She didn't even get up to go speak to Axel. She just wanted her brother with her, like it always was before. Mungojerrie had wanted things to be like they had in the past, but not like this.

"Teazer, you're getting pale." He told her one morning. "Why don't we walk together, just for a little bit?" He suggested to try and get her out of the funk she'd fallen into. She had not left her bed for three days.

"I knew there was something wrong. I told you I got weird feelings about this place. I should've made us leave." The big sister inside her felt guilty that she had not only trapped herself, but her own brother as well in that pasture. Even though it was _Mungojerrie_ that insisted they stay. If anything, _he_ was tearing himself apart about all of this... but as soon as he told her it was time to leave, _she_ had changed her mind. They were both lured by the charm of a nice, comfortable home and their skills being lauded.

It was almost highway hypnosis—they were surrounded by material wealth and leisure and they got too comfortable.

"...They didn't recruit us because they needed thieves. They needed a _queen_." She teared up as she came to the conclusion. "You even said they might be murderers! Why didn't I listen?" She said a little louder and Mungojerrie shushed her. The tom lovingly stroked his paw up and down her arm. Their moment was cut short when someone knocked on the door. Neither said anything. Mungojerrie even looked over hatefully before they even knew whom it was.

"What?"

"May I enter?" It was Raithen. The _last_ cat they wanted to see.

"No." Jerrie replied plainly. He'd asked, so he answered.

"I beg pardon, but it's a matter of etiquette." Raithen said politely. His constant 'manners' were becoming aggravating.

"I said no." Mungojerrie repeated.

"Let them in." Rumpleteazer sat up suddenly, wiping her face and fixing her fur. Mungojerrie could not believe her. She gave him a look, insisting. He sighed, and with a shaky paw, he unlocked the door and opened it. Raithen entered along with Axel and Mosstail. It took Axel giving Mungojerrie a furtive look to remind him _not_ to attack the Russian Blue. "How nice to see you." Rumpleteazer said with a subtle grin. Despite everything, the Bengal remembered to play nice. It was all acting. Just like in the movies. Acting.

"You've been missed around the pasture. Are you well?"

"I'm doing much better, thank you."

"I want you to know that Axel informed me of Mosstail's... _behavior_ , as well as your brother's heroic gesture." He looked over at the Bengal tom, who only sneered at him. Rumpleteazer did not want to look at Mosstail, but something told her she would have to. His fur looked noticeably tangled and he was far more sloppy in his posture than he ever had been before. His eyes, dead. "We had him straightened out; he shouldn't be causing you any trouble again." He stated firmly. "He offers his apologies." Mosstail nodded succinctly, but Mungojerrie winced.

"Why doesn't he say it himself?" He growled with contempt.

Raithen looked over his shoulder to him. "I understand you are _angry_ with him, my lad, for violating your only sister." He purposefully milked out the details just to make him cringe... and it worked. "But he disobeyed one of my most _strict_ rules in this pasture. You don't touch a young queen, not until she's of age. Don't worry. Nobody gets away with anything here." He looked at the Russian Blue next to him. "Right, Mosstail?" He nodded.

"Let him say he's sorry." Rumpleteazer said, wanting to hear it as much as her brother did.

Raithen looked at the brooding tom, then back at her, "I'm afraid he can't. He can't say much of _anything_ anymore." Neither twin seemed to understand what he was implying. Was it that vow of silence he'd told them about months ago?

Mungojerrie didn't care if he swore on his right paw; he _would_ say it. "An apology means nothing unless it comes from the person accused."

"Oh, I agree." Said Raithen. "But you both better believe me when I say he's very, _very_ sorry for what he's done. And I assure you he won't misbehave again."

The queen had heard enough bollocks for one day. "Very well, then." She said, pursing her lips.

"We'll be taking our leave. Humans say there's a snowstorm ahead of us, so there's work to be done." And then all but the Serengeti tom quit the room. He lingered for a moment until they were downstairs.

"Lad," Axel said to Mungojerrie, "is it all right if we speak a moment?" Mungojerrie turned away from him and looked at Rumpleteazer. "We can speak right outside the door if you want, but it's something I'd prefer to discuss privately."

"We _are_ in private." Defended the tom.

"Jerrie, it's fine." Rumpleteazer said, encouraging them both to leave her if that's what it required. She was sure whatever Axel told him in confidence, Mungojerrie would share it with her anyway. He brought him outside to the hallway and they closed the door.

Axel went straight to the point as the Bengal preferred it. "You think everyone here is after you – I don't blame you. I got a similar feeling after I was only here a few months... but I was desperate and had nowhere to go. Raithen's targets are always the same. One minute he's got the face of a saint, but then he has the mind of a Devil when you do something he doesn't like. I know I'm no match for him, but maybe you and your sister can do better. I guessed that the moment you threatened to kill me if I tried anything on her." Axel snorted slightly. Mungojerrie's cold eyes softened unexpectedly at the Serengeti opening up.

Axel went on, "You want to know why I try to keep an eye on your sister when you're not around? Half-a-year after I first arrived, Raithen took in a young queen that was abused by her owners. He gave her food, a warm bed, said all of his charming words and made her feel special. I didn't know any better—I didn't find it odd that there was only _one_ queen in the entire pasture, and that after two weeks, she was suddenly locked in the room all day long. I tried to convince myself it was for _her_ safety so the toms here wouldn't try anything..." He closed his eyes, shivering. "But it was just the opposite. Raithen's older, he can't mate anymore, and so he relies on other toms to keep the tribe growing... that's why he deprives them as long as he can to make _sure_ they'll want to mate when he brings a queen in." He turned his gaze to the floor, then back at the Bengal, "When... when Raithen said I ought to have a turn, I waited until everyone was asleep before I went into her room. She was terrified to see me. But instead of locking it behind me, I left it wide open for her so she could run..." He took a much longer pause, "...I don't know if it's because it was dark, if she was in a blind panic, or if she'd just wanted to end it all... but for whichever reason, she ended up falling down the well. I couldn't get to her in time to stop it."

Mungojerrie's fur was standing straight up, his blood went cold.

"You both still have time." Axel continued, gathering himself. "Neither of you are eighteen yet, and that's when Raithen allows anyone to mate the queen he's picked up... I know he's got eyes on you two all over the place, but your fate doesn't have to be the same as mine _or_ that girl's. Your sister's got more brains than you and me both by pretending she _doesn't_ have any... Maybe if you keep that up, you both might get his trust back... then who knows?"

—

"You told him I'm spayed, right?" Rumpleteazer whispered to her brother later that night.

"Yes, but you don't have the scar to prove it, and I think even an idiot could tell the difference between an old and new scar."

"Moss-arse didn't care if I had a scar or not." She scoffed. "We didn't tell him our birthday... so at most we've got a year to plan an escape before he realizes." She reached from her own bed and rubbed her paw over his, both lying on their backs to look at the ceiling. "Around this time all the humans in the neighborhood would put up their holiday lights and we'd spend nights out looking at them, listening to the music."

"Everything smelled sweet because everyone was baking _something_. Even the shops in town." Mungojerrie smirked fondly. "Everything always felt so magical when we were kits."

"It's because everything's new." Rumpleteazer pondered. "And then because it was so wonderful before, you spend all year looking forward to it again." She closed her eyes, picturing the colorful lights along the rooftops. She sighed plaintively, "What if we never get to see them again?"

Mungojerrie turned his head to her, "Don't think like that." If his _sister_ was becoming doubtful, then it _really_ meant she was in turmoil. It couldn't be helped. "We're going to get out of here... and we're going to see the holiday lights again. And we'll go to the cinema as many times as we like."

"I don't care where we end up as long as we're together." Said the queen. "If something happens to you while we're here, you won't have to wait for me long in the heaviside layer."

Mungojerrie's eyes darkened and his heart sank. He squeezed her paw, "That won't happen." Rumpleteazer looked away, slowly sliding her paw out of his so she could lie on her side. Mungojerrie didn't have much choice but to roll over and try to sleep as well. He curled up under the blanket and closed his eyes.

He heard a voice singing beautifully. His sister's voice... was she happy again? He looked around and saw that she was up on a stage, crystals in her fur, an audience spellbound by her pathos.

 _In the rain the pavement shines like silver_  
 _All the lights are misty in the river_  
 _In the darkness, the trees are full of starlight_  
 _And all I see is him and me forever and forever_

No film or live performance could compare. Mungojerrie was front row... so close that he could see how happy she was. How at peace. They were free. Yes... they were finally free. But the show went dark, her voice quiet, and Mungojerrie opened his eyes back into his bitter reality.

Time passed and it was suddenly winter, and snow came more viciously than the twins had ever seen so far in their lives. They didn't realize this would only be the _first_ time they'd witness London be struck by an unexpectedly white season. While he remained obedient and silent around the Copperkits, Mungojerrie's anxiety had reached a new height. Soon it would be spring. March twenty-fifth would make him and his sister eighteen. He'd only be able to hide the fact from them for so long. Rumpleteazer had said they had a year at most before anyone figured it out. She, meanwhile, was getting along just as fine as before, so long as she was in the company of her brother or Axel.

He didn't understand how she could act so plucky being around old, languid toms that had resigned to their fates as slaves long ago. Maybe it was because she believed they would escape someday... or she was just trying to distract herself from the idea that she just _might_ be looking into her future. Even if they were both to try and escape, the weather would work against them. It was so foggy that they couldn't see three feet past their own faces when they stepped outside. Apparently Raithen loved winter despite he suffered the most of all the cats there—he had no fur to keep him warm. Still, it gave him an excuse to always have hot tea and a fire going. The Bengals found it funny that such a wicked tom could find joy in the most mundane of things... things that seemed _normal_ to the rest of the feline society.

One night, Raithen came into he and his sister's room at night clutching a cloth in his paws. "Ixion is waiting." Said the bald tom. Then he wrapped the fabric around Mungojerrie's neck and began choking him, but he vanished when the teenager yanked his blankets off of him and sat up in the bed. It was only a dream. But Mungojerrie could handle dreams; not this waking nightmare.

—

It was a new human year, and while Raithen had all of his subjects in his private quarters celebrating, Mungojerrie was not among them. Even Rumpleteazer had gone just to keep up her act _and_ to have a good time. It wasn't in her nature to turn down a party.

Because there was so much commotion going on, no one was around to see Mungojerrie in the kitchen making himself some tea when he remembered the locked cabinet and what it contained. He looked at the doorway to make sure no one was coming and picked the lock with his claw. He saw there a few jars of herbs, but pushed to the very back of the top shelf was the greyish-colored substance he'd seen Mosstail dose the stranger's tea with... He carefully pushed the other containers aside and pulled it out. Even with the lid on, it _smelled_ like it could kill him. Like something the human woman he lived with used on her nails.

...And suddenly the idea struck him. There, that night. It could all be over. How could he have waited so long? Pushing the jars back into place and keeping the poison close to his chest, he locked the cabinet back. He turned around.

"What have you got there, mate?"

Part of him was relieved when he saw it was only Axel, but he still felt a glint of panic. "Ah— I was looking for something for my tea."

The Serengeti eyed what he had clutched in his paw and then back at the guilty-faced lad. "You don't want to use _that_. Trust me." Mungojerrie's heart kept pounding, worried he'd be in trouble despite having some sense of trust in the yellow-eyed cat before him. "Relax. You're safe with me." He said quietly. They could still hear muffled voices and classical records playing beneath them, indicating that their conversation couldn't be heard anyway. "...Most of us wouldn't dare for a reason, you know." He said, trying to hint him that he was better off putting it away and forgetting about hatching such a plan.

"I know." Mungojerrie quivered, gazing at the item that could be his only chance of escape. "It just... feels good... to think about it." He confessed before putting it back as it was. Such a short, sweet moment where he thought he'd solved all of his problems. In truth, Axel had saved him from bringing himself _more_. He went down with him to where everyone else was; the music Raithen had on was more lively than the Bengal was used to.

"Ah! There's a fine lad." Greeted the Sphynx cheerfully. "I hated to start without you."

"My stomach's been a bit upset." He fibbed, forcing a grin. "Where is my sister?"

"Dancing, I think. She's really been the star of the night." Mungojerrie looked around to see she was indeed in the center of the room watching the toms take turns; only queen of the pack. It unsettled him. "Enjoy yourself." Insisted Raithen, and the tom complied by sitting on a chair and keeping watch on Rumpleteazer. He dared himself many a time to stay still and not intervene when a tom would eagerly fight his way to have a turn in dancing with her.

She squealed and laughed, either actually having fun or just giving them what she assumed they wanted to see. "Jerrie!" She called, holding her paw out, "Come! Let's show them what _real_ dancers look like!" She looked so giddy and sanguine that Mungojerrie almost wanted to accept her offer, but he really couldn't stomach any acrobatic or whimsical movements. Not tonight. "Don't be a party pooper, Jer-Bear." She fussed, using a nickname neither had heard since kittenhood. Mungojerrie pricked his ears slightly and stood up with a slight eye-roll. He supposed he didn't have a choice. "Will someone be a dear and play a volta?" She called, hoping _one_ of these cultureless pigs would know the meaning of it. Raithen was certain to have a record or two.

The Copperkits gave the twins room in the center, standing in a circle to see the siblings in action for the first time. Mungojerrie felt a smile creeping on his face. He was sure none of the men wanted to watch _him_ dance, but his sister—nothing could appeal to these deprived cats more than seeing a female move her body in hypnotic rotations. For Rumpleteazer, there was no pleasure finer than a good dance, good food, and good music.

"You heard the lady." Called a tom.

Raithen gave them an opening, "Play _Dansereye!_ " And so the toms did – _Rondes I & VII._

The twins were natural improvisers both on the field _and_ when it came to performance! They both moved to the music in perfect harmony. Were twins not _expected_ to be in sync at all times? When they were close enough to each other so that they could whisper, Rumpleteazer said with a smile, "It's a happy night, dear brother." They spun around each other.

"What do you mean?"

"Parties are often full of surprises." She said, which was enough to clue him in... but still leave him blind as to what she _meant_. Their dance came to a quick end, but the night had many hours to go. Raithen wanted to make a toast at midnight. Without much choice, the Bengals lingered around for the moment to arrive, more so Mungojerrie, since Rumpleteazer had many ways to occupy herself while he kept watch.

Once it was about ten before midnight, Mungojerrie was anxious to leave. Everybody was now just chatting quietly with some music playing. Rumpleteazer, however, kept saying they stay until Raithen dismissed them. "Teazer," he hissed through his teeth, "I've had enough 'being polite' for one night."

"Brother, just trust me." She sat down beside him. "God, my feet are killing me. I haven't danced so much in months!" She kneaded at her cramped legs.

"You look exhausted. Why don't we just _ask_ for permission to leave?"

"No. I want to be here for the toast." She insisted. There really was no arguing with her, and so, with a groan, he acquiesced.

"Would someone bring me wine?" Called the elder. "It's a minute to midnight!" Mosstail brought Raithen his cup from where he'd set it—the Russian Blue had been lurking in the corner all evening. Not speaking, not dancing. Utterly downtrodden. "I'd offer some to our newest members of the family, but I'm afraid they're not of drinking age yet! When will that be?"

"Not for a while." Said Mungojerrie to dodge the question. He knew what he was trying to do. Rumpleteazer was smiling prettily.

"Well," the tom raised his cup along with the others who had drinks, "a toast to a new, long, and prosperous year. I am proud to call you all my clan... my family." He took a big, long drink.

Mungojerrie felt his sister squeezing his paw so hard that he could feel his fingers tingling from lack of blood flow. _"Teazer. My paw."_ He looked at her with concern, but she said nothing and watched Raithen take another sip. The queen was about to break her brother's knuckles.

"Throat's gone dry." He laughed to the cat he was chatting with, but then he began to cough some more. He stood up, but the coughing fit only became worse so much that the others were becoming worried.

"He's choking!" Axel gasped from across the room.

Rumpleteazer stood up, still not letting go of her brother. "Help him!" She cried in a voice twice her size. "Somebody help him!" She screeched again. Mungojerrie could see the Sphynx turning purple, but he was not surprised to find himself calm about all of this, although shocked. One of the lower subordinates ran over and pounded on the tom's back so that he began to vomit, wailing and shouting at each other. Mungojerrie looked to see how Axel was taking all of this, but in the confusion he couldn't find him.

Then his eyes fell on the cup, forgotten on the floor. There were but the remnants of tiny white petals soaked purple from the wine. Teazer was in his arm now, afraid to look. They heard welting gasps and suddenly Raithen could breathe again; Mosstail had jabbed a spoon down his throat to help expel whatever was in his stomach.

 _So he'll live_ , thought Jerrie. _Damn it..._ He was inspecting the cup again. Those petals, they were from Cuckoo Flowers. He knew his sister's favorite anywhere. He recalled having to tell her that they were poisonous to cats when she said they looked good enough to eat. Mungojerrie looked down at his 'weeping' sister in his arm. She'd planned it for months – she was just waiting for the right moment. _We need to leave_. Thought the tom. It was now or never. Nobody was paying attention! But before he could waddle with her over to the door, he saw Nebula guarding it. No one was leaving.

"There's something in the wine." Said a lower-rank. "Look." He presented the wilted petals to the others. "Did it come from the greenhouse?"

"No one uses that anymore!"

"Whomever it was," said Raithen, voice as sharp as a knife despite the ordeal, "I'll be having a word with you. If you don't step forward now, I'll simply find you the hard way instead."

"It could've been an accident!" Axel chirped in. "Lots of drinks have made us sick before!"

"No... never before like this." Raithen said. "Was anyone else's drink tainted?" None of the cats said a word. "Then it _was_ meant for me then. Nebula, Axel, Mosstail. Do your duty. Everyone is under house arrest until I know the culprit."


	30. Love

**Part 3: Writing's On the Wall**

* * *

 _I've been here before_  
 _But always hit the floor_  
 _I've spent a lifetime running_  
 _And I always get away_  
 _But with you I'm feeling something_  
 _That makes me want to stay_

 _I'm prepared for this_  
 _I never shoot to miss_  
 _But I feel like a storm is coming_  
 _If I'm gonna make it through the day_  
 _Then there's no more use in running_  
 _This is something I gotta face_

 _If I risk it all_  
 _Could you break my fall?_

 _How do I live? How do I breathe?_  
 _When you're not here I'm suffocating_  
 _I want to feel love, run through my blood_  
 _Tell me is this where I give it all up?_  
 _For you I have to risk it all_  
 _'Cause the writing's on the wall_

 _A million shards of glass_  
 _That haunt me from my past_  
 _As the stars begin to gather_  
 _And the light begins to fade_  
 _When all hope begins to shatter_  
 _Know that I won't be afraid_

 _If I risk it all_  
 _Could you break my fall?_

 _How do I live? How do I breathe?_  
 _When you're not here I'm suffocating_  
 _I want to feel love, run through my blood_  
 _Tell me is this where I give it all up?_  
 _For you I have to risk it all_  
 _'Cause the writing's on the wall_

 _The writing's on the wall_

 _How do I live? How do I breathe?_  
 _When you're not here I'm suffocating_  
 _I want to feel love, run through my blood_  
 _Tell me is this where I give it all up?_  
 _How do I live? How do I breathe?_  
 _When you're not here I'm suffocating_  
 _I want to feel love, run through my blood_  
 _Tell me is this where I give it all up?_  
 _For you I have to risk it all_  
 _'Cause the writing's on the wall_

* * *

 **Alonzo**

Neither twin sibling had been able to rest since the night's ordeal. Nor had Alonzo, who for some reason was pining for their company... or the company of _someone_ to air his stress to. Rumpleteazer sat alone inside their tent, wrapped in her blanket while Mungojerrie watched Alonzo pace back and forth in thought, going on about this idea and that to fortify the junkyard's defenses. If they were both going to be advisors, then they _both_ had to hear one another's ideas out... though Mungojerrie only seemed to think his ideas were too emotionally-propelled... and for his part, he wasn't wrong.

"There's no need to turn this place into a military camp." Said the Bengal tom.

"We could use the protection." Argued the Turkish Angora. "It's nothing you would know," he began to vent out of worry and frustration, "you're too busy looting human shops and houses."

"Crime is one thing, taking a kitten is another!" Shouted Rumpleteazer, livid.

"This is what he does, Alonzo." Mungojerrie clarified, "Raithen screws with your head until you can't even trust your own damn shadow! We're going about this all the wrong way."

Alonzo folded his arms, not enjoying the fact that he was now _required_ to listen to him... But in the end, he understood that Mungojerrie did know more than him about these goons. "Then what do _you_ suggest?"

"If we're going to be an even match against him, then we have to play _his_ game. We'll take turns spying on him so we can keep up with his plans. Raithen isn't scared away easily, but if we stay a few steps ahead and get rid of the blokes protecting him, we can at least get him isolated. But it has to be at the right time!"

"So _more_ waiting around?" Complained Alonzo.

"Stop getting so emotional!" Mungojerrie exclaimed.

Alonzo hissed, ready to swipe the tom across the face. It only came from a place of concern for his best friend. He hadn't even had _a year_ to mourn his father's death, and now he had kittens to protect. He knew a breakdown was just _waiting_ for him if Raithen kept this up, and that's why Alonzo wanted to act _now_. But if anyone knew that patience was a virtue, it was him... him _and_ Munkustrap. But he couldn't tolerate this anymore! Did they not comprehend the direness of it all?

"There is another way," mused Rumpleteazer, "if he still places the growth of his clan above whatever _personal_ vengeance he has against the Jellicles, then we give him what he wants: a virgin queen." She looked up at the two toms, the moonlight bounced off her bright green eyes. Mungojerrie looked horrified, and Alonzo stunned. Was she _really_ offering her freedom?

"N-no!" Alonzo said before her brother even could. "That's... _noble_ of you, but we'll think of another way."

"I'm not being noble," growled Rumpleteazer, "I'm being rational! It would keep them off our arses. That aside, _Nebula_ is our biggest threat. We need him far away and _not_ constantly being given orders to assault us to even have a slight chance of catching him by surprise." The Bengal queen went quiet and pulled her blanket more snug. "Just something for you two to think about while you argue."

"We can't argue amongst ourselves; that's the _last_ thing we need." Said the black-and-white tom, finally making some sense to the orange-and-black cat beside him. "But _no one's_ giving themselves up to them! Granted, no matter what _we_ come up with, it'll be Munkustrap who gets the final word."

"Then we better have something good to bring to him." Replied Mungojerrie. The three then heard the fence rattle and all went alert. It was only Victoria with Mistoffelees and Rum Tum Tugger behind her. Of all cats, Tugger didn't think he'd see the day where _Alonzo_ hung out with the Bengals. Victoria took Mistoffelees' arm and walked away with him.

"Am I missing a meeting I wasn't informed about?" Tugger half-joked.

"Not really." Alonzo sighed. "So, what happened?"

"Kid didn't do it. It was some stranger; probably some feral bloke."

"Makes enough sense..." He bowed his head, knowing the Maine Coon wasn't going to like what he was about to tell him.

"Where's my bro?"

Alonzo fidgeted. "He... He's asleep in his den." It wasn't a lie, after all. "But, Tugger, Nebula was here tonight. He was attacking Demeter and from what it looked like, he scratched up Munkustrap pretty good too... We think he might've been going after the kittens." He was right: Rum Tum Tugger was _not_ happy. He watched his jade eyes go slit and opaque.

"Where's the bugger?" He asked in a quiet mumble.

"Munkustrap chased him off, but I don't know how far."

He rubbed his paw over his mouth and jaw, thoughts turning grisly. Tugger's arms and paws were shaking, though it could just be the windchill. It didn't matter. Fire was blazing behind his eyes and they lit up like the fury boiling inside of him. The tom said no more; he paced towards the gate.

"Tugger?" Alonzo panicked now. The Maine Coon leaped over the fence. "Tugger, wait!"

"Don't." Mungojerrie said, grabbing his shoulder. "Let him send a message if that's what he wants to do." Alonzo still wanted to go after him, never being able to predict what the curious cat might do... but for once he felt compelled to listen to Mungojerrie and he did just what he said. The Turkish Angora looked worriedly back at the queen, transfixed by her own dark memories.

* * *

 **Rum Tum Tugger**

Far away from the safety of the junkyard, the sixteen-year-old tom sat alone on a fire escape. He was leaning against the railing with half his face covered by his arms. He'd told his father to come look for him, but as much as he partially _wanted_ that, he knew he wouldn't. They didn't want him there anyway. They didn't want him _anywhere_ near them.

He wished that he hated them, then it wouldn't hurt so much. Hating his brother and father sounded so easy to anyone else. He could spout it as much as he liked, but even _he_ wouldn't be convinced that it was the truth. Why did he have to love someone that had no use for him? If they didn't need him, then why did he ever go back at all? Was he so desperate as to assume they'd suddenly want him around?

His vision was blurry and his eyes were still watery. So fucking ridiculous. A nearly-grown tom and here he was crying like a helpless kitten. Well, _wanting_ to cry. He wiped his eyes and went down the stairs. He needed somewhere warmer to sleep, and less noisy. When he got to the bottom, he was startled out of his own skin when he bumped into a tall, striking queen that had also not seen him coming.

"Oh! I'm sorry! I didn't see you." She said. Tugger knew her voice. It wasn't even her scent that gave her away. Cassandra. She recognized him as quickly as he did her, "Rum Tum Tugger?" He kept his head low and tried to walk away, but she stopped him.

He forcefully shoved her away. "Let go!" She did not, and she took a good look at his glassy-eyed face. It was still flushed from tearing up, though his irate expression denied it.

"What's wrong?" She said softly. He didn't say. "You've been crying." Did she _have_ to remind him? "What is it?"

"What are you doing out here? It's past curfew."

"A queen comes and goes as she likes." She smirked. "Why are _you_ out here all alone and sad?"

"I'm not sad." He grumbled defiantly.

Gently, Cassandra took her tail and dabbed it across his eyes. "Yes you are..." He looked at her pitifully, wishing he could disappear. "It's okay... you can tell me."

"What do you care?"

"I'm a Jellicle, _you're_ a Jellicle. We ought to look out for each other."

"I'm no Jellicle in my _father's_ eyes." He found himself saying without thinking. "But what does that matter? He's got my brother. He's always been his favorite."

"Munkustrap?"

"Who else?" He hissed bitterly.

"I'm sure your father doesn't mean it."

Tugger chuffed at her. "You wouldn't know. Now leave me alone." He pushed past her and stormed away, but that wasn't the last time he saw Cassandra that night. In fact, it was barely half-an-hour later when she found him sulking on the bonnet of a car. He didn't even break inside of it to turn the radio on— _that's_ how down in the dumps he was. Without warning, however, music started playing, startling him.

The Siamese queen said, smirking, "Music always puts me in a good mood." She crawled down from the top and sat next to him.

"I told you to leave me alone."

"Why?" He kept turned away from her. "You don't _have_ to talk to me, but it's no fun to be alone."

"I like being alone."

She frowned, "That's too bad. I was looking for someone to keep me company."

He growled, "Then go look somewhere else." Cassandra didn't speak. Instead, her tail curled around him, she nuzzled her face on his shoulder and purred. It felt surprisingly warm; so much that the sensation traveled from his ears to his tail and his heart jolted for a split-second.

"I think I'll stay here, if that's all right with you." She whispered; her voice took an entirely different tone. Tugger felt his face get hot and he scooted away. "Do you always go out late at night?"

"Sometimes, whenever the mood hits me." He said, still looking elsewhere. Anywhere but in her eyes; she'd see how flustered he was.

"So you're unpredictable. I like that." An uncharacteristic shyness overtook the tom and he, with his head low, turned back to her. His eyes were still red-rimmed and tired. The music filled the silence between them so that they felt comfortable without speaking. Another song came on: _No. 1 Party Anthem_. Cassandra grinned softly at him.

"I like this song..." He breathed bashfully.

She came close again. "Yeah?" He nodded. Already she was touching his face and mane, which was shorter at the time. He felt much smaller than he normally did... not in a pygmy sense, but rather, like he was being taken care of... _adored_ was the word. Involuntarily, he started to purr.

Finally, Tugger took a breath and said, "My father thinks I'm useless." His voice broke. "He doesn't want me."

"Why would you say that?"

"I just know." Her paw slid down his cheek to his chin. Her face was close to his, and although he was unnerved from how fast it was happening... Rum Tum Tugger wanted more of it.

She brushed her face across his, "Do you want to know what _I_ know?" She said with her eyes closed. "I know that _I_ want you." Tugger took a sharp breath in just as she kissed his cheek, his ear, his brow bone, "I've wanted you since the first moment I saw you. You're the most handsome creature I've ever known."

He looked into the Siamese's eyes; one he'd only known for a few short years of his life and only spared a few conversations with, including a dance here and there. "Thank you..." He smiled, closing his eyes. "You don't think I'm worthless?"

"Anyone who thinks that is the stupidest cat who ever lived." Her other paw went onto his lap and gripped. Tugger suddenly ran out of air and his heart raced. The look of gratitude in his eyes was satisfactory enough, but she was not finished. She lied Tugger onto his back, the metal of the car creaked beneath them.

 _It's not like I'm falling in love, I just want you to do me no good  
And you look like you could_

 _Come on, come on, come on_  
 _Come on, come on, come on_  
 _Number one party anthem_

She caressed him as they both took in each other's breath; as many times as he'd fantasized and indulged in this feeling, he had not expected it to become real tonight. Life's funny like that. She kissed his lips, caught him by surprise when her tongue touched his, but he didn't pull back. "Tugger," she said, "let me make you feel better." Better than he already did? At the time, he couldn't imagine anything of the like. But soon, his libido felt ragingly alive. Cassandra tenderly coaxed his sex out. Soon he couldn't hear the music, he couldn't hear himself panting and grunting, nor the car rasping underneath their shifting weight. But he could feel.

Great almighty everlasting, he could _feel_.

 _Come on, come on, come on  
Come on, come on, come on  
Come on, come on, come on  
Come on, come on, come on  
Before the moment's gone  
Number one party anthem  
Number one party anthem  
Number one party anthem_

He felt his chastity cease from existence as he released inside of her. He felt her warm paws grab and pull his fur and skin. He felt how she nuzzled against his chest when they were finished. He now knew what it was like to feel loved. It came in the strangest form he'd ever discovered. This could not be his only time. All he wanted was that feeling. To be wanted. To be loved.

—

All he could feel _now_ was hate. Boiling, seething hate.

Rum Tum Tugger prowled lightly along the rails of a fire escape, his paws carefully taking him far above where any cat below could track him. With focused eyes, he looked around for the bald freak, or the Savannah, _one_ of them. Like he'd always pretend as a kitten, the city was his jungle, and he was a leopard high up in the trees. Were cities not jungles anyway? Full of twisting paths and creatures of different kingdoms residing there? His father would say such a thing, thought the Jellicle Cat—all of the sudden he was making those symbolic connections his father had enjoyed. He hated it when such thoughts creeped into his head.

The blistering snow combined with the wind kept getting a lock of his mane in his face and causing him to snatch it back in place. He caught a whiff of a vaguely dirty and musty odor and followed it. It was more distinct than that of a sewer rat. No, the smell was too strong to come from a creature so tiny. Soon it was so powerful he could almost taste it. Indeed, he'd be getting a Copperkit's skin between his teeth tonight.

He then found the four toms lying in a small pile to keep warm. Tiny shapes beneath him as Tugger went down two levels so he could identify each one individually. All the coated cats were having to keep Raithen warm. Damn it. That made his primal target all the more difficult to reach... perhaps he'd have to just start with his other enemy—the one that tried to literally rip his family apart. He had no qualms for who died first that night.

His foot slid slightly, forgetting about the ice on the surface beneath him, and he knocked over an ashtray and it went tumbling down to the earth, shattering to pieces and causing the toms to jump up in panic. Tugger laid his ears back and looked down on them; the moonlight emphasized the rage in his eyes. He growled loudly and Raithen looked up at the figure, realizing it as the _only_ Jellicle he even had a slight fear of. _"Mate..."_ He tried to say with reason, but Rum Tum Tugger replied with an angry lash of his tail as he bared his white fangs.

He leapt at them with a hideous roar and his claws reaching out. The toms all jumped for him, but compared to them, the Maine Coon was the size of a bear, even _without_ the extra layer of thick, wintertime fur. Tugger shoved a smaller one aside as he went running for the naked, fearful tom that had narrowly escaped his grab. Tugger only gave out hisses and snarls as he made chase.

He knew why Raithen wouldn't fight back: he was old. Not even in his prime would he stand a chance against this athletic beast of a cat. Not once had he tried to strike Munkustrap himself—that was Tugger's first clue to how weak he was. But was his will lacking too? No matter; Tugger liked a chase.

Raithen slipped on the ice and fell, and Tugger nearly had him when Nebula jumped down from a railing and pierced his claws into Tugger's side, both rolling out onto the street. Fine. He would die first. He hated him too! Rum Tum Tugger got the upper-hand and pinned the spotted cat down. With his claws, he ripped the fur from his neck while Nebula pushed back. Even when he was losing, he wouldn't give up... he really _was_ deranged! Tugger was so hyper-focused on ripping the skin off of his bones that he didn't see the Russian Blue coming from behind him. He was forced off when it sank its teeth into his shoulder.

Tugger gave a loud hiss and clawed at the opposer's chest to get away. Both toms were too weak to try and stand immediately. Tugger suddenly no longer cared about them, not when he saw another tom helping Raithen back up. With a low, gurgling growl, Tugger prowled closer to his prey... back hunched, shoulders arched, head low. The hunting stance he'd perfected.

He went lunging again, leaping right over the brown cat and chasing Raithen down the alleyway once more. He tried to jump onto a fire escape, but Tugger grabbed him by his waist and threw him off. Tugger stood over Raithen, a claw at his throat. When he saw the three toms coming to save him, he hissed at them violently. Every cat on the planet knew the rules. They didn't interfere when a cat challenged the other.

Raithen gagged, "Such strength!" He said with wonder. "You'd be a better bodyguard than Nebula!" Tugger falled for no one's honeyed words. He pressed his paw more deeply to shut him up. He didn't like him from the beginning, he wouldn't listen to him at his end. "Unlike him, you've the guts to _kill_ a cat!" Tugger's eyes blared with fury and he shoved his paw even further into his windpipe; now Raithen really _couldn't_ speak. Tugger shook as he breathed heavily. All he had to do was deploy his claw and pull away. Then it'd be over. He felt the blades of his paws sliding out, so eager...

 _"K-Kill... this... helpless... old cat."_ Taunted Raithen through the cusps of breath he could manage. Rum Tum Tugger still had his teeth bared, finding now that Raithen was goading him to do it, he no longer had the desire to. It wouldn't be as satis— why would killing another tom seem satisfying? No, he didn't _like_ killing. He was just protecting his family. That's all he was doing. Just like when he killed— He couldn't show he was hesitating. That would give the others an opening! Showing some mercy, Tugger pulled his paw from his throat and moved it to his chest to keep him from moving. Raithen coughed, but then sneered his half-toothless grin, "So, I guess I'm not evil enough to die at your claws... not like your brother?" At that, not even the maned tom could react; he was too confused.

But he'd relinquished the challenge—that meant Raithen's cohorts were now free to do as they pleased. The traitor brown cat grabbed Tugger's collar and pulled. He tightened the back so hard until the Maine Coon was gagging and the world was getting dark. He saw Raithen beginning to walk away. _No, this isn't over!_ Tugger lashed with sudden resurgence of strength and he sliced his own collar apart so he could escape. Even the Sphynx had underestimated the tom's will and went flying again, towards the park the leopard-spotted cat often spent his time in. But there was so much more snow than he was used to that it slowed him down, forcing him to stop and turn this way and that to try and find the bald tom.

Raithen couldn't be _that_ dumb to get lost out here when he had no means of staying warm. Tugger felt something hot on his side as well as liquid dripping down from his shoulder to his wrist. He felt it and saw on his paw warm, red blood. His own blood. He was in too foggy of a state to even worry. He didn't care about Raithen or the Copperkits anymore. He wanted the blood off of him... it _was_ his blood, right?

Tugger found the pond he often fished in and cupped water out, the freezing liquid turning red as it swirled into cloudy shapes underneath. Tugger was shivering all over from Raithen's words. He killed Macavity because he _had_ to. He killed his father; his brother would've been next. Now his niece and nephews were in danger. He only did this because he loved them. He... _He..._ _He wasn't like his brother_.

"What's wrong, mate?" Tugger heard a voice that could make him freeze into ice. He looked for where it had come from, only to see it was the blood in the water. That wasn't possible. The blood had taken shape of the ginger cat with sunken eyes; one with a gaping wound in his neck. "Did I not say we had a lot in common? You still don't believe me, don't you?" Tugger went still; his lips sewn together and eyes glazed over in what could only be called fear. "Come, now, I'll show you. Are we not brothers?" Macavity reached his paw to him, rising out the water. "Are we not brothers?"

He seized Tugger's wrist and pulled him into the lake.


	31. Rose

**Munkustrap**

"Munkustrap!" A voice rang through the junkyard. Munkustrap cracked an eye open; it was still nighttime. What _now?_ He had Sophitia nestled in his arms, finally comfortable and sleeping. Demeter blinked her eyes, not even sure of _what_ she'd heard. He shushed her quietly, trying to keep the kittens asleep. Skimbleshanks, with frantic eyes, peered into their den. He rapidly waved an arm at him telling him to come see. The tabby had no choice once again. He told Skimble to stay with Demeter and the babies while he left yet again that night.

This time there was more of a crowd coming out to see. Jennyanydots and the kitten queens, Bombalurina, Mistoffelees, and Plato. Finally, Munkustrap walked to the front and his heart dropped into his stomach. Tied around the chain-linked fence was Rum Tum Tugger's broken collar. His eyes went wide with heartbreak. "What is this?" He asked as if anyone knew.

"We found it here just now." Said Jenny. She'd been trying to keep the kittens calm, but they were too old, too aware to hide such problems from now. "No one's seen your brother anywhere."

Munkustrap took the collar off... no mistake that it _was_ Tugger's. He could smell both him _and_ the Copperkits on it. It had blood on the spikes.

"Is Tugger okay?" Asked a worried Jemima.

"Of course he is! Don't be stupid!" Shouted Etcetera.

"Don't name-call, young lady!"

"Who saw him last? Mistoffelees?" Munkustrap turned to the tuxedo kit, who could only shake his head.

"He walked me back home, but then he went to talk to Alonzo and—"

 _"Where's Alonzo?"_ Shouted Munkustrap, now in a full-fledged panic. He was done pretending to be calm. Something either had his little brother or was fooling him into believing they did... but he wouldn't take this lightly either way. He blitzed around the area until he found the black-and-white tom resting near the Bengal twins' den. Why on earth was he _there?_ No, he didn't care. Munkustrap was only worried about _one thing_ at this moment. "Alonzo, where's Tugger?" He asked, not even giving him a chance to fully wake up.

"Wh-What?" He blinked, confused and drowsy.

"My brother!" He emphasized, annoyed and terrified. "Where. Is. He?" Alonzo then looked equally afraid, but the Egyptian Mau didn't have any time for him to stutter and hesitate.

"He, he went out after I told him Nebula came here. Why?" Munkustrap presented him his torn collar, to which Alonzo went petrified. "N-No. Tugger wouldn't... they _couldn't!_ " He stammered in genuine disbelief. Tugger was the size of a dog to them; how could such a scrawny cat manage to best him? The twins peeked out of their tent in the midst of the exchange; Mungojerrie belied his own fear when he saw what was happening. He should've let Alonzo at least _try_ to stop him. But Munkustrap didn't care how, what, or why. He just wanted to find his brother alive.

Munkustrap dragged Alonzo out the gates with him, calling Plato to follow to help scent for him. Mistoffelees tried to come along, but Munkustrap didn't need any other kits in jeopardy. He knew why Tugger had gone – as soon as Alonzo said he told him about Nebula, he knew his brother would try to find him and shred him to pieces. He was righteous and impulsive like that. It came from a place of loyalty, yes, but also recklessness. Ridiculous audacity. But Tugger was strong; he hunted and climbed! Surely he could at least fight them off and flee if he needed to!

But then he remembered: Tugger had the pride of a lion. He _wouldn't_ run away if he had to. He feared nothing, and that made _Munkustrap_ afraid. He couldn't lose his brother; the only member of his family he had left that he shared a kittenhood with. _His_ kittens couldn't lose their uncle! He knew that Tugger loved them, and he wouldn't leave them so soon after their birth.

"Tugger's alive." He whispered to himself to abate his anxiety, though it sounded more like a plea to the buildings around him. He said it just to make it real. If Macavity couldn't best his brother, no cat could. He didn't know whom he would bump into first; his brother or Raithen. Either way, he had to find him. He had to find him unharmed!

What Munkustrap didn't know yet was that there was a _fourth_ member of their search party.

* * *

 **Bombalurina**

She had witnessed what those cats would do to a _pregnant_ queen. What were they willing to do to a full-grown tom that was probably attacking _them_ first? _God_ she was so cold. Living in Amsterdam might've made her toughen up during the winters, but she'd been back in London for too long; her blood had thinned. She'd gotten spoiled. She went to the first place she expected to find Tugger: the park. That's where he slept most nights—when she came home that year, she couldn't help but realize how little _he_ was home.

She'd expected him to outgrow his need to always wander off during the evenings and not come home until the next morning, but apparently the urge was stronger than ever! As soon as he got home, he wanted to go right back out. It was only a matter of time before the Maine Coon himself left the country... but Bombalurina was amazed that he stayed. It made her a lucky one too, because she had all the time in the world to try and catch up on things with him. She didn't assume _Tugger_ would be interested in her life in the Netherlands or her escapades in France... around him, _she_ didn't care about those things either. She wanted to get to know all about _him_ , how _he'd_ changed.

Bombalurina didn't mind a challenge. It was a nice change compared to what the Somali was exposed to in Paris. Only eighteen, yet toms young and _younger_ were pawing for her. She ended up staying longer than she intended when she first arrived—Paris was expensive for humans to live in, and taking up residence wasn't be smart without a well-paying job. Lucky for her, she was a cat, and she enjoyed a comfortable abode not far from the Seine. Every night she fell asleep with a dream of a view; the Eiffel Tower in the distance, the yellow lights of the Musée d'Orsay glowing romantically off the blue water.

The Somali had gotten the honor to explore the Louvre museum, though she had to be chased out by angry guards that were afraid she'd ruin the art. How dare they? She came there to _admire_ it! She kept thinking it would be nice to have someone to look at art _with_ , but for now, she took it all in for herself. Humans really _could_ create timeless things. The red queen stopped to look at the sculptures... so real that she swore they could be alive.

She took in a deep breath, only able to sigh at the marvelous piece before her: _Psyche Revived by Cupid's Kiss._ So romantic, so beautiful. Of course, Bombalurina's rudimentary French skills read the label as ' _Psyche revived by the kiss of love.'_ It sounded like a fairytale. _Everything_ sounded like a fairytale here... except the tomcats.

When Bombalurina became more accustomed to the roads she spent time on, she found herself a bit of a part-time job performing behind a club with other queens. They'd been rather snooty and snobbish at first, but the Somali used her charm and grace to win them over, naturally. It would soon be _more_ than just a few pretentious singers she'd be stealing the hearts of. Each and every time she went out, toms swooned, licked their chops, swung their tails. It'd be a lie to say she didn't feel flattered by the attention—but while she enjoyed the company of smitten toms, she hated the disrespect at once.

One night, she came out with a special song she'd rehearsed for weeks; one that was well-known across the world.

"How about this English rose sings you a song about a _French_ rose?" She asked the audience, as if they'd say no. One would believe this young queen was already in her mid-twenties with her booming, powerful voice. She _looked_ older underneath the dimmed lights. She wasn't even thinking of age now; just the look of awe on the cats' faces.

 _Des yeux qui font baisser les miens_  
 _Un rire qui se perd sur sa bouche_  
 _Voilà le portrait sans retouches_  
 _De l'homme auquel j'appartiens_

She sang like she'd been a Frenchqueen her entire life. The song took a far more sultry edge than it's usual soft and romantic.

 _Quand il me prend dans ses bras_  
 _Il me parle tout bas_  
 _Je vois la vie en rose_  
 _Il me dit des mots d'amour_  
 _Des mots de tous les jours_  
 _Et ça m'fait quelque chose_

 _Il est entré dans mon cœur_  
 _Une part de bonheur_  
 _Dont je connais la cause_  
 _C'est lui pour moi, moi pour lui dans la vie_  
 _Il me l'a dit, l'a juré pour la vie_

Bombalurina walked through the crowd; swinging her hips, scratching chins, and swiping her tail. She felt sexy. No, she _was_ sexy.

 _Et dès que je l'aperçois_  
 _Alors je sens en moi_  
 _Mon cœur qui..._

She belted; ... _baaaaaaaaaaaat_

"I'd like _your_ English rose." Dribbled a tom, smacking her rear. She jumped slightly, but went on singing like nothing happened.

 _C'est lui pour moi, moi pour lui dans la vie_  
 _Il me l'a dit, l'a juré pour la vie_  
 _Alors je sens en moi_  
 _La viiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeee..._

 _Alors je sens en moi  
_ _La viiiiiieeeee... eeeeeennnn rooooooooossssse!_

Truthfully, the spank had startled the queen more than it seemed; toms always liked to _look_ , but never had they touched. She thought that wasn't allowed... not that it bothered her or anything, but it'd be nice to know that a sudden squeeze wasn't going to disrupt her performance. When she was singing, she needed to focus her entirety into it—which meant no arse-grabs. Not _every_ tom could be a gentle one. Even in London, she knew that.

—

Bombalurina didn't know if it was just culture-shock or plain disgust in general when she realized the longer she performed, the more entitled the onlookers thought they were to grab her; she even had three cuts along her chest from where one swiped at her breast. One, that _hurt_ , and two, how dare they? The other queens would laugh at her, saying to get used to it or find another Friday night hobby. This was no hobby to her! Song and dance was her passion! Naturally so for a Jellicle Cat! Granted, none of these folks had even heard the _word_ Jellicle. She tried not to think about the tribe too much, because then she started to miss them, and there was so much more she wanted to see before deciding to go home.

After a month in Paris, Bombalurina thought maybe now was the time to board the next train out, perhaps just the city. She wanted to see Toulouse and Strasbourg, and she couldn't limit herself to just _one_ country abroad! She couldn't leave before seeing the Palace of Versailles first! She'd planned for weeks to put some time aside to visit! She had no clue how she was going to casually stroll in with so much security and so many tourists. The queen had quite the appreciation for fine art; something a lot of the cats in the tribe never knew, since she was never inclined to discuss it with anyone. It was more of she loved indulging in it when she was marveling such works. She appreciated any sort of physical beauty presented to her, as it deserved to be.

She gazed upon Élisabeth Vigée Le Brun's _Marie-Antoinette, Queen of France._ The Somali wasn't much of a history buff, but she knew that she ruled right around the time the French Revolution occured... or something like that. All she know was that it didn't end well for her, yet in the picture, she looked so unassuming, so naive... but perhaps slightly smug about her position. A sort of withdrawn look in her eyes... though, Bombalurina tried not to put _too_ much thought into it and took in its beautiful details instead.

She got lost in the ceiling, the chandeliers dangling above her, the tall windows, she envisioned the Jellicle Ball being held there, how grand it would be. Truly, she could not imagine seeing something more breathtaking in her life. The humans called it the Hall of Mirrors. She'd overheard some human saying something about an English Garden, and Bombalurina wanted to see for herself how 'English' it was. She followed them out the door, through the park, and was led to a lucious grotto. The city cat had never seen so much green before. Never before had she seen leaves such a color, a small gazebo nestled upon a river. To have lived in such riches, Bombalurina could only imagine. But to be the _pet_ of a ruling figure... perhaps not her idea of a living. Still, it was fun to picture it and think of the history these places entailed.

 _"Vous n'êtes pas d'ici."_ Called a voice, startling the red-colored queen. Looking up, she saw sitting in the trees a European shorthair cat, batting his tail.

 _"Non, je ne suis pas."_ Bombalurina's ears flattened, she stuttered. _"Parlez vous anglais?"_

The tom smirked. "I do." Her heart then returned to its normal pace. "You're not from around here. I've seen plenty of tourists coming and going, but very few of them are cats!"

Bombalurina smirked. "I guess I'm an exception." She held her chin high, eluding him. "Are _you_ a regular visitor?"

"You could call me a rent-free resident, since no one's found me out yet." He chortled. "Then again, I don't like staying in one place too long."

"Look at us. A couple of free-roaming spirits." She smiled brightly, flashing her porcelain teeth. "Where are you headed to next? I haven't quite got a plan yet. I came here with only France in mind."

"Oh, _pardonne-moi_ , my dear. I don't intend to leave the city so quickly. I'm here on a business trip, you see." _What kind of business trip could a_ cat _possibly have?_ That's something _humans_ say! "But I can make a recommendation to you! I spent a year up in The Netherlands. Of course, on the way there, you should make a stop in Bruges or Brussels. _Gorgeous_ buildings if that's what you intend to see!"

The fox-like cat nodded, "I'll have to keep an eye out for the next train going then." She grinned, "Maybe I'll come back and share my journeys with you."

"Perhaps you might." He replied, flirting right back.

And indeed, Bombalurina _would_ see eventually him again.

—

"Well, there's a curious beast I'm happy to see." She called to him a week after she'd arrived back in the junkyard. He was still perched on the trunk of a tree and her voice had startled him out of his nap. He had to grab the branch to keep from falling. "Cat nap?" She swished her tail.

Tugger sat up, he gave a somewhat smug grin, "Did you lose your manners while you were away? It's not polite to interrupt someone's rest." He hopped down to the base of the tree. Bombalurina strutted closer.

"I still can't believe it. Beastie's all grown up..." She stopped a moment to marvel. When did he get so _tall?_ "And you finally grew into your teeth." He rested his thumbs under his belt, unknowingly leading Bombalurina's eyes right to his treat. What was he doing to her? Why wasn't _he_ trembling? Not even a little? "I don't suppose you have any desire to hear all about my exciting adventures abroad?"

"Oh, no. You can tell me anything! I need something that'll help me get back to sleep anyway." He stuck his tongue out at her and she swatted at him.

"Haven't changed _much_ , I see."

"Well, maybe not to _you_. You've only been back a few days now."

"And I never get to see you."

Tugger raised an inquisitive and somewhat sultry brow, "Of all cats, you wanna see _me?_ "

"Well, everyone else is more or less the same. _You_ , on the other hand, I almost didn't recognize you."

"Trying to make me feel special?"

"I've met _plenty_ of special toms." She replied, trying to sound witty. Tugger only rolled his eyes, _knowing_ she was just putting on an act. Still, he would humor her.

"Oh really." He adusted the collar of his jacket, "Tell me, Bomba, what are Frenchtoms like?"

"Hmm." She walked by, brushing her tail across his abdomen. "They're polite, sensitive, _artistic_."

The Maine Coon couldn't help but smirk. "Sounds like you're making that up."

"Well, why don't you go to Paris and find out yourself?" She swiveled her ears. "All you have to do is hop aboard a train; cats don't get checked for tickets."

"Not even _you?_ You're pretty sketchy." He chuckled.

"It'd be hard not to check _you_ out, darling." She tickled his chin, giving a gentle scratch before turning away again. "

Tugger strutted behind her, "We both know you've been checking me out since you got back here. Guess I'm more interesting than the toms you met in Paris." He couldn't help but feel a little cocky, knowing he was playing the very game she started _just_ as well. Bombalurina had not expected this; he _was_ still a kitten when she left, completely oblivious to sexuality and hormones... she didn't stop to realize he _to_ had to have learned about it at some point. Why was she surprised at _all_ , really? The questions she supposed would be answered another time—for now, she wanted to see if she could strike home with a certain gent before her.

Suddenly, the Maine Coon asked, "You didn't _just_ go to Paris, did you?"

Bombalurina didn't expect him to ask. "Oh, no. I actually lived in Amsterdam; _far_ longer than I stayed in France, but I visited there and Belgium _very_ often."

"Nowhere else?" The tom was surprised. For almost a decade, she'd only been to three different countries?

"Nowhere else really _interested_ me." She replied. "I've stopped in Luxembourg, which I was surprised was so nice."

Tugger's eyes shined for a moment. "You should've gone to Italy." The queen looked astonished—of all cats to get into this conversation with her, it was Rum Tum Tugger? "That's where _I_ would've gone if I were so close."

She swished her tail and put her paws on her hips. "Oh really?" She said, still maintaining a sensual edge.

"Yeah. Rome? It'd be so fucking cool to see the colosseum where all the gladiator battles were fought! You could've gone to Spain too!" He went on, getting rather excited. It made _Bombalurina_ joyful to have someone to talk to about these ideas, especially because she wasn't expecting it.

"What's in Spain?"

"Um... good food? Nice beaches? _Awesome_ buildings?"

Bombalurina smiled, "I had no idea you wanted to travel so."

"Psh." He had a quick change of attitude, "I'm making suggestions for _you_. _I'm_ not going anywhere, not without _Father's_ permission." He hopped onto the ledge of the fountain, going to get a drink. Bombalurina joined him. Suddenly it was like no time between them had passed at all. Nine years escaped them and the queen felt certain that she'd just been leaving London the day before, hearing him give her one final 'thank you.' Now she was back, and they knew one another again.

Somehow, despite this endeavor wasn't going _at all_ as she envisioned, Bombalurina was grateful for it. He didn't care to be seduced; instead, he was perfectly fine just _talking_. Her heart fluttered more than it had with all the other toms she'd been with. It was bizarre.

"Old Deuteronomy says you can't leave?" She enquired.

Tugger swallowed a lap of water. "Not without him sending someone to drag me back. If I leave the West End, I'm screwed. Of course, that's my own fault for getting myself into trouble about a year... _fuck_ , maybe it was two years ago now! I don't know."

"What _kind_ of trouble?" She smirked. "I thought I told my beastie to stay out of other cats' territories."

Tugger looked at her, not responding. Before she could say something else 'clever,' he spit a bullet of fountain water at her.

"Ah!" She wiped at her shoulder. "You... _You..._ " Her cheeks were swelling; reddened and falling victim to a laugh. She covered her mouth to hide her smile, but Tugger already knew.

"Go on. Hit me hard with one of your fancy French words... or is it _Dutch?_ " Bombalurina pursed her lips. She swung her tail in the water, but the tom easily dodged it. "You underestimate my reflexes." _His reflexes, huh?_ Bombalurina shoved on his chest and before he could grab the ledge of the fountain, he fell backward into the water with a yelp. All the queen saw was a splash.

She busted into a guffaw. "Oh yes, _such_ reflexes." No answer. The fountain couldn't be that deep, could it? She stepped closer, a little worried, "Tugger?" He scared her, earning a screech, and pulled her into the water with him. Now they were _both_ soaked. Tugger's mane had fallen into his eyes, even after he shook out the water.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I get you... _wet?_ " He stuck his tongue at her again. Indeed, they were still but kittens, at least in this very moment. Yes, she liked reveling in the familiar playfulness they had... but Bombalurina wanted to meet Rum Tum Tugger as an adult too... But that could wait. Bombalurina splashed at him with her paws and he did in return.


	32. Feeling

**Munkustrap**

Twenty minutes after arriving at the park, Munkustrap could hear Alonzo shouting from the pond. _"Here! Over here!"_ He was screaming and waving his arms. Plato was with him, and Bombalurina, and...

"Tugger!" The Maine Coon wasn't moving, not responding to the cats shaking him and trying to roll him onto his back. Munkustrap pushed the toms out of the way, his brother lied in the snow drenched in lake water, eyes wide and hollow. Freezing. Freezing and dying. The tabby's heart bursted when he reached that conclusion. Munkustrap felt him; cold as ice. Moving him was like moving a solid block of wood; heavy and still. "Hey." Munkustrap felt his face, his chest, he had blood on him. "Tugger! Can you hear me?" He knew he wouldn't be getting any response. "Please, please talk to me!" He wiped the snow from his fur, desperately trying to get some heat on him. He was too distressed to cry; was that even possible?

 _"Please, PLEASE."_ Munkustrap pushed both his paws into his brother's chest, forcefully pumping into his heart. "Come on, you're a fighter! You were _born_ fighting!" He implored tirelessly. "I can't lose you. I can't lose you too!" He found himself weeping.

"We need to get him somewhere warm!" Said Alonzo. Plato, meanwhile, was restlessly breathing into Tugger's paw, trying to assist in thawing. Munkustrap ignored _both_ of their efforts and kept trying to revive him. Bombalurina was too afraid to touch him; she had to keep a paw over her mouth. She wouldn't cry, not until she was certain it was needed. Her face turned blue from holding her breath. "Munkustrap, are you listening?" Screeched the Turkish Angora. Munkustrap knew he was right, but what if he didn't get his heart going in time and they lost him? It took the strength of both toms _and_ the Somali to pry the tabby away from his brother so they could carry him back to the junkyard.

As soon as they reached the gates, Bombalurina ran ahead of them, "Where's Jelly?" She shrieked so that the entire vicinity could hear her and find her. The toms wasted no time in getting Tugger to a warm den with blankets. Jellylorum was there in an instant.

"Someone bring me hot water!"

Alonzo shoved his way outside. Munkustrap had to be held back so he didn't get in the way. Jelly and Jenny put him in warm blankets, the maned tom still unresponsive to the world. Munkustrap wanted nothing more than to hug his brother, to hold him. He was helpless and only left to listen to the queens converse.

"Should we get a fire going?"

"No. Changing his temperature too quickly will put him in shock." The caramel-colored queen then turned to Munkustrap and Plato, "How long was he in the water for?"

"We don't know." Answered Plato. "He'd already rolled out by the time we found him."

"Good thing too!" Said Jelly right as Alonzo came back with a dish of hot water. She shook her head. "I'm going to need more than that!"

"What?" He looked baffled. "It's for him to drink, right?"

"No." Jennyanydots then dunked a towelette into the bowl, wrung it tightly, and then pressed down everywhere she could on the tom. "Go on!" Alonzo hastily ran off again. "Munkustrap," said the Scottish Fold, "wait outside. I don't want you to stress out."

"But," he stammered, not heeding her words, "he's my brother! I need to be here."

"Love, listen to me." She insisted, wiping Tugger's coat down. "If you want to help, you can help us by making sure we've got enough hot water ready to use." At that, Munkustrap nodded. He could do that. _Anything_ to save him would suffice. He could hear them from outside. _"Come on love, come on. We'll get you there!"_ Despite she too despaired over his rambunctious, rebellious antics, even Jennyanydots loved Rum Tum Tugger like one of her own kits. Munkustrap came back with Alonzo, this time bringing a discarded mixing bowl of water – much bigger than the small tray.

"How is he?"

"It's only been a few minutes, we're still getting him dry."

Munkustrap looked and saw him not moving, green eyes still glazed over. He suddenly remembered the wounds Tugger had been brought home with about ten years ago. They were so much worse! But he also wasn't frozen stiff like he was tonight. Of _all_ the ways the cats thought Tugger would die, it wouldn't be from freezing to death! Not _his_ brother.

"Come on. You have to live. You _have_ to live!" Jelly kept repeating in a daze. Munkustrap was thinking, _When he was a kitten, they thought he'd die._ Every day of his life he fought just to breathe normally. No challenge was too great for his leopard little brother. Munkustrap had thought for certain he'd die when he was eighteen; the abrasions, broken bones, and then the fever. But no; his brother was a champion. This itself was but a roadblock. Tugger didn't climb over mountains – he made them move out of his way. "We've just got to get him warm again. That's all." She tried to reassure.

"Is he breathing?" Munkustrap asked, still frightened.

"He's got a heartbeat, but it's slow." Jenny was rubbing Tugger's paws furiously. "Love, go on now. Being here won't help _either_ of us." She just wanted to help the silver tom get his mind off of the situation, but really sending him away would make it worse. He felt like he had no choice and he went back to his den, where Demeter was awake feeding the kittens. Skimbleshanks had been with them the entire time.

"Skimble, you can go now." He said weakly so he could be alone with his family. Demeter saw his morose state and when he told her what was happening, all she could do was what everyone else had done and try to reassure him. Not even his kittens happily crawling over to his lap could bring him out of his terror. _Myah!_ Sophitia pawed at her father's face for his attention. He gently pushed it away. "Demeter, I'm so scared." He said just so someone could hear it. "I don't want the kittens to lose their uncle."

"Munkustrap—"

"I can't lose my little brother, Demeter, _I can't._ "

Demeter put a paw on his shoulder, her other arm holding Tilikum to her chest. The tortie and the calico kit looked between their two parents, Sophitia a little more perturbed than both her brothers. She put a paw on her father's knee again. Why did he look so sad so much? Why did her daddy want to cry? He always made her feel better with hugs and kisses. Aéras reached under the blanket for his Pooh Bear and tried to give it to Munkustrap, pressing into his stomach. It brought the softest of grins to his face. Even Demeter forgot what they were talking about and cooed lovingly. "Thank you." He whispered to the kit. Sophitia, however, vied for his attention.

She stood on her hind-legs with her paws on his chest, kissing his chin with her small tongue.

"Oh, sweetheart, I love you too." He grinned, taking hold of the little princess. She babbled a little, trying to make a coherent sound.

 _"Ah_ — _"_ she gurgled, _"Ah-da... Dada."_ Munkustrap and Demeter's eyes went big. _"Dadadadada!"_ She said brightly, as if in a song. The tabby looked at his mate with teary eyes and then back at their daughter. _"Dada!"_ Munkustrap beamed and hugged her.

"Mhm. That's right. _Dad-dy._ " He then saw Aéras looking at him and pawing at his leg, then took him in the crook of his other arm. "I love you so much." Demeter used her free arm to hold them close and, for the first time, the family held each other in a comforting embrace.

* * *

 **Bombalurina**

The Somali crept to the den where they'd moved over a generator to get some heat flowing inside. They were still patting the Maine Coon damp with warm water, bristling it through his tangled, matted fur. What frightened her the most was not the frost on the strands of hair, nor the stillness of his body, but the vacant look in his eyes. She'd never seen such a look from him in her life. The thousand-yard stare humans called it. Looking into nothing, oblivion, yet they were transfixed. She couldn't look anymore and instead listened from outside.

"Does he still have a heartbeat?" Asked Jelly.

Jenny checked him, pressing her ear to his chest. "He does. It's not good, though."

"My god, he still feels like ice." Exclaimed the queen, moving him closer to the generator. "His face is a little warmer at least." She wrapped him in the blanket; he was free of the cold water since every inch of his body was either dried or pressed damp with warmth. She pounded on his back and then rubbed. Pat, then rub. Pat, then rub. Like trying to get a human infant to cry. "Come on, you're almost there." She bid him. Did she really know that, though? Was all of this in vain? Bombalurina could see it now—they'd try until morning, but to no avail. She would fall to her knees in agony. Her beastie...

The tom she could cherish their time together as adults, yet both still play around and joke like when they were kittens. The seven-year age gap between them closed when she came back... they were new, yet the same. Her feelings for him changed so many a time. From adoration, to protectiveness, to lust, to companionship, to... He knew this. Tugger had known since their first time together; she called it the first night they realized they were both grown up.

The two had been teasing and flirting with each other all night, but when Bombalurina was finally too hot and bothered to keep up their game, she asked him to walk her home just so they could be in private. When they were but a block away from where they'd been having their fun, she stopped him, unable to shake the itch. "Tugger," she whispered to him, anxious and hot. Even the tom had been somewhat shaken by it.

"What is it? You okay?"

The queen put her paws on his face and came close for a nuzzle. "I want you." She finally said in a purr. It wasn't the first time he heard this from a queen, but his first time from _her_. It surprised him, but it also didn't.

"Do you?"

She then rubbed her nails down his chest and to his hips. "I _need_ you."

He took her paws off his waist, "Slow down." He smirked. "If we're going to take care of business, there's a few things I want you to know first."

Bombalurina blinked. "Like what?"

"One," he lifted his tail, "I don't do hugs, and I don't do kisses. Two, no name-calls. No I-love-yous either. Three. There's nothing personal about our mating—it's just for fun." He explained calmly. He noticed her looking a little disappointed, so he went on. "I'm okay with one-night stands, but I'm not aiming for anything serious right now."

"Oh, yes! I know." She knew _very_ well. She made her old hobbies no secret to any tom she hooked up with. It was only ethical to let them know beforehand. In a way, she felt honored that Tugger had given her the full picture before agreeing to anything. "I prefer casual flings myself." She traced a finger down his sternum again, "I didn't realize beastie was so hard to please." She could feel the vibrations of his own purring on her fingertips.

His ears pricked up. "Gotta make it challenging, right?" He pushed his chest forward a little into her touch. He noticed her blushing and felt rewarded. Bombalurina warmed her head against his neck, nuzzling her crown under his chin.

"Do you _bite_ _?_ " She whispered tantalizingly. His body was nice and warm that cold evening. His purr grew louder in her ear as she slid her fingers along the rim of his belt.

"What do you suppose these chompers are for, m'lady?" He asked, rubbing her arms, feeling her fur rise as his paws glided downward.

"Ooh, _curious_ beast." She raked gently through his thick fur before giving his neck a gentle nip. Tugger closed his eyes and melted into the touch of her lips, getting lost in the moment. "Beastie." She crooned, finding a loophole in the unfortunate no-name-call rule. "Can't I have just... _one_ kiss?" She looked up at him with bright eyes.

He snorted, smoothing his paw across her cheek. "If I make you any exceptions, that wouldn't be fair to the other queens I've mated."

"But they don't know you like _I_ do." She replied, poking his nose. "Please?" She poked out her lower lip in a pout.

Rum Tum Tugger rolled his eyes. "Well, how can I say 'no' to a face like that?" He then tapped a finger on _her_ nose and kept it there. _"One_ kiss." He emphasized before pulling her in close, "So you better make it a good one."

She smirked at him, suddenly lost in his eyes. Indeed, she knew those eyes anywhere... how could she even _imagine_ forgetting them? Bombalurina couldn't help taking her time to gather herself before initiating their first kiss. When he casually placed his arms around her, everything seemed to slow down... the sounds of the city faded. Never did this feeling occur in her prior dates. Not even with... What did it matter? She felt Tugger come in closer, saw his eyes narrow gently. Bombalurina cupped his face in her paws pulled him in with surprising strength, melting into a deep, long, warm kiss. It felt unnaturally profound; her fingers ran down to his shoulders, feeling every individual fiber of his thick coat slick down smooth. It had been so otherworldly that the Somali almost lost her balance when Tugger broke the kiss and backed away.

He sighed. "Jesus; I have to breathe, you know!" He straightened his vest out while Bombalurina stood awkwardly, still in her fantasy. "All right, you got _one_. Are you content now?" She snapped out of it, but was only able to nod in response. "You okay?" He asked her again, raising a brow.

"Yeah. Um..." She tried to recompose herself, but she'd lost any ounce of seduction she might've had in her that night. What, just _what_ was he doing to her? "Tugger, I... Can we go home instead?"

Tugger furrowed his brow, his ears lowered. "Did I do something...?"

"No!" She hurriedly told him. "I just think maybe you and I should... _wait_ for..." Wait for what? _What?_ She'd waited twenty-seven years of her life for a feeling as good as this. She knew someday a tom could come and change her entire worldview of what pleasure really was. Of all nights, she had not expected it to be this one. Why was she fighting it? The red queen recollected herself, getting some reserve back. "I really only get _one_ kiss?" A grin tugged at her lips.

Tugger scoffed. _"That's_ what got you flustered?"

"I can't help it. You're just that good!"

"Mhm..." He fiddled with his belt again. "Don't think flattery's gonna earn you another one." He clearly knew better than that. He was beyond her persuasion skills unlike all the others before him.

Bombalurina sneered and nuzzled him. "I can't help but try, can't I?" All she could offer now was a small tickle on his chin before he pushed her back so he had space. "So, beastie, am I allowed to make requests?"

Tugger's tail curved upward with interest. "That all depends..." His voice was low and sultry. It rattled her. She took his arms again, alluding that she wanted to be picked up so he could sit her on the bench behind her. He complied, not having much trouble lifting her at all since it was now _he_ that stood a head taller. "Who knew one day I'd be so fond of that arse?" She said right as she gave him a squeeze before letting go of her.

"Don't make me feel cocky. I just might go rough on you."

She quirked a brow in response. "Who ever said I liked _gentlecats?_ " Indeed, whoever thought Bombalurina wanted a gracious, refined tom over a wild hedonist really didn't know her at all. Tugger didn't reply. He only smirked back at her and gave her hips a few gentle rubs. She leaned forward to brush a lock of his mane back into place, stroking it as she retracted her paw. He started to move his paw to her thighs.

"Do I have permission?" He asked in a strangely tender voice.

"Of course." She replied and let him carefully rub her, millimeters away from her sex. His paws were deft and gentle. Bombalurina found herself starting to breathe heavy as she watched his intricate movements.

"If I do anything you don't like, just say 'no' and I'll stop." He told her, sending rose petals fluttering into her stomach.

"All right... y-you do the same." She found herself struggling to speak cohesively. The Somali sat unmoving, until she reached to lift him by his chin so she could look into his eyes, drinking their softness.

The Maine Coon was slightly flummoxed. "No?" He did not understand the sentimental gesture. Bombalurina pulled him upward by the wrists and placed his paws on her breasts. "There?"

"Yes..." She purred and watched Rum Tum Tugger stroke and knead the soft skin there, feeling chills inch down her spine. He never pulled or pinched or squeezed, which somehow only managed to make the queen grow hotter. "Tugger?" He looked back at her, listening... That's what it was. He _listened_. What's more, he showed that he _wanted_ to listen. That was something no tom had done with her before. She was flushed and breathless. Bombalurina moved her legs apart to invite him in. "Please..." She found herself gasping moments before he pushed himself inside of her.


	33. Fate

**Alonzo**

Was Rum Tum Tugger really going to die? Alonzo had been chewing on his claws all the early-dawn; it was still dark out. The leopard-spotted cat might only be a godbrother to him, but he was his best friend's brother, and that riddled more than enough anxiety and guilt in him to make him panic. He'd failed him. His panicking was irking the twins not so far away.

"Would you _relax_ , mate?" Chided Mungojerrie.

"No! I don't understand how _you're_ relaxed!"

"I'm not! I'm worried too, but you don't see me getting anyone in a panic."

"I'm not panicking anybody!"

"Both of you stop it!" Cried Rumpleteazer. "My brother is right, _panicking's_ not gonna do anyone any good." She then turned to Mungojerrie, "But if he's worried, then let him worry! Not everyone deals with these things the same way. His wounds aren't that bad."

"It's not the wounds; he was _frozen!_ Literally! You could chip the actual _ice_ off of him!" _Now_ Alonzo was getting ridiculous. "How long is this night going to last?"

"I don't know!" Mungojerrie shouted to quiet him, "But it'll be _much_ longer if you keep busy worrying over something that's out of your control!" He softened slightly, "Believe me, I know." And Mungojerrie _did_ know. He would never say something he didn't mean. Even Alonzo knew that at this rate, but it couldn't silence the repugnant fear that sparked inside of him. Perhaps the Bengal knew _fear_ too... but that wasn't something he couldn't ask him yet. It wouldn't feel right.

He spoke to Rumpleteazer instead. "Neither of you were here yet, but when Tugger was eighteen, he came back looking even worse than this. One of his cuts got infected and he was sick for weeks... Munkustrap didn't leave his side once, but every day when I went to check on him, you could see it in his eyes – how frightened he was to lose him. As annoying as he can get, he's still his brother... and I know Tugger wants what's best for us as much as we do... lad's just got to fucking learn to stop and think!"

"Maybe he _was_ thinking," mused Rumpleteazer, "thinking about getting rid of the threat once and for all... it's not his fault he doesn't know just how loony Raithen is." At that, she saw her brother tense and retreat into their tent. She scowled, "My brother doesn't like to think about it... but everything we've learned there is what made us into survivors." She explained to Alonzo. "I never thought they'd end up worming their way over here themselves... Raithen might be an evil genius, but he's a coward. He can't do any dirty work himself. He's not a real leader like Munkustrap." She smiled a little. Alonzo didn't know whether she just wanted to butter him up or not, but he couldn't help noting how pretty and pink her lips were when she did. He didn't know _why_ ; that wasn't important right now!

Mungojerrie, who had been listening from where he sat, said "Raithen might say he's a leader, but he keeps people close by wearing two faces. One that's kind and well-meaning, then another that's vicious... I don't find fear to be an effective motivator. It just makes us want to run away instead of serve." He ran his claw through the dirt, making mindless shapes. "It might work for a little bit, but it doesn't last." But then his brows shot up. He looked like he understood something—like he finally got the punch line of a joke he'd heard years ago. "H-His cohorts! They'll want to run eventually! _Especially_ since they're not locked up in the farmhouse."

"Jerrie, you're forgetting about Nebula." Reminded his sister. "He keeps them all in line, no matter _how_ bad it gets."

"We were scared of Nebula too, Teazer!" He said, turning around. "That didn't stop us from planning our way out of there. If Raithen doesn't have anyone to do his work for him, he's as lethal as cat litter."

Alonzo winced at the Bengals. "So what are we supposed to do then? What if none of them run? Do we just wait for Raithen to die of old age?"

Rumpleteazer giggled, _"That_ wouldn't take very long."

"I'm not saying that's a definite, but it _is_ something to consider."

"I'm getting tired of sitting around and considering, I want _results!_ "

"Calm down!" Mungojerrie really didn't understand Alonzo's impatience; he was just stressed, he presumed. "We both do." He sighed, "I'm just... _new_ to this whole advisor thing. If you want to make anything happen, you've got to take control of the situation. Right now, getting Raithen's men to desert him _isn't_ in our reach, but keeping a few steps ahead of him _is._ " Alonzo wanted to argue, but then he remembered something else. Mungojerrie had done _a lot_ of things he didn't want to in order to get ahead and survive. That was the keyword: survive.

He didn't _want_ to stay in Hammersmith as long as he did, but he and his sister served and drank tea with the Copperkits for a year-and-a-half so long as they were both kept alive. He didn't care about what he _or_ his sister wanted. Rumpleteazer had told him she'd had enough of laughing and teasing the toms every day, and that eventually Mungojerrie had to _goad_ her into doing so. They had a faux alliance to forge.

And so the queen did what she did best. She smiled. She flattered. She charmed. She treated the little psychos with adoration so they'd leave her and her brother alone. She did that so Mungojerrie didn't have to... he didn't _want_ to. Mungojerrie didn't pretend to like anyone; he just endured. That's how Alonzo knew he could trust him—he wouldn't be here trying to help the tribe if he didn't honestly love them. That didn't mean the two blokes would end up bonding anytime soon.

Still, Alonzo began to consider how difficult this must be _emotionally_. Here came back the cats that had caused them pain and suffering. Of course they were going to be as scared as flustered as everyone else was, if not _twice_ as much! He realized how insensitive he'd been and quickly apologized, "I know how terrifying this must be." His words brought surprise in the twins' eyes. "I know my attitude hasn't been helping either of you manage. At the very least, we all want to help. That's a certain." Rumpleteazer looked genuinely impressed while Mungojerrie, though touched, was too tired to try and hatch up any clever plans. He said nothing and pulled the open flap of the tent closed so he could sleep.

"Don't worry. He's as stressed as you are." Rumpleteazer told Alonzo, still bundled in her wintertime blanket. She had been this whole night. "He's been trying to get all the facts for ages so he can come up with something. The truth is neither of us can figure out _why_ he could have it out for Munkustrap. If it really were about the growth of his tribe, he'd kidnap a queen without any of us knowing and leave it at that. If we knew everything that went on between him and Old Deuteronomy, then maybe we'd have a better means of dealing with him." Alonzo looked at her like she was brilliant, but she quickly said, _"His_ words. Not mine."

"Still, I doubt he figured that out on his own."

"My brother's the smartest tom I know. I let him deal with all the planning and organizing before we go out on heists—he's good at that stuff."

"I can't understand _why_ you two would relish in such an awful hobby. It's unethical."

"If we cared about ethics, we wouldn't have lasted in that madhouse as long as we did."

"Well, you've got to have _some_ to have wanted to run away from it." He reasoned, stopping her short. "How _did_ you get him to trust you? Raithen, I mean. You don't suppose he'll fall for the same trick again, will you?"

"No," she said with ice in her tone, "Raithen never forgets... he knows once someone's not to be trusted that they're to be watched at all times."

Alonzo shifted uncomfortably where he stood. "Um... I never figured out whether the story you told me was true or a lie." Rumpleteazer's ears perked up. "Am I worthy enough to get the answer?"

"You're only worthy when you figure it out yourself." She tittered oh-so-smugly. She got a chill and pulled the blanket tighter.

"Are you cold? I can get you another blanket—"

"I'm fine." She said, not wanting him to leave even for a moment. "It snowed like this once while we were there. It's as if Raithen just _summons_ rotten weather." She kept quiet for a second or two, "It was this cold on the worst day of my life." She whispered, and Alonzo sat silently, listening to her story.

* * *

 **Mungojerrie**

Three days after the New Year's party was when a tom came into the twins' room uninvited early one morning. They'd all been on lockdown while each steward in charge of the drinks was interrogated. So far, they'd been lucky – neither twin was even seen _near_ the cups or the bottles of wine... and they weren't permitted to serve either, so they assumed they'd been ignored entirely. What happened next was something Rumpleteazer didn't know at the time – something she _wouldn't_ know until a week later – but the tom crept past the queen's bed and shook Mungojerrie.

"Wake up." His voice was so sharp that it jolted the Bengal awake like he'd been pierced with a claw. "Raithen would like to speak with you in his quarters. Be down in no less than five minutes." The kit didn't even have time to ask why he was needed so early before he was left alone again. The noise hadn't woken his sister, who somehow slept heavily and tranquilly despite the circumstances. It only took him _two_ minutes to preen and work his way downstairs. When he got to the room, Mungojerrie was not greeted by Raithen, but instead Nebula, who twacked hot water into his face.

It didn't burn him, but Mungojerrie reeled back in shock and pain, leaving him vulnerable. Mosstail, who'd been standing out of sight, threw a paw over his mouth before his yelp could wake anyone up and the two drug him out the door and through the snow while he clawed and kicked. Mungojerrie had been counting the days he thought would be his last, but he assured himself every time that he would at least die fighting. He thrashed and bit, but his efforts were fruitless and he was thrown at Raithen's feet, face-down in the snow before he scrambled up and saw where they'd brought him: the barn.

"You and I are going to have a talk... _mate._ " The padlock was already open, and all it took was the slightest pull to crack it open. It was harder with the snow, but once he managed to get a gap just big enough to squeeze Mungojerrie through, he had the toms bring him forward again. He struggled again, unable to make a sound in his confusion and fright. But when he was inside he, for the first time in his life, let out a blood-curdling shriek.

The door shut behind him and locked, muffling his screams that went on and on and on.

When they came back and opened the door, which the Bengal had been scratching and raking at until his claws were worn to the quick, he fell out and crawled only a few inches before his shaking, throbbing muscles gave out and he could only lie in weak, faint fear. Raithen locked the barn back up while saying, "I told you your inquisitiveness would be the end of you. But you have to think more _broadly!_ I didn't say it would _literally_ kill you. Curiosity at times takes away small bits and pieces, but never does anyone in... not to _my_ knowledge of course." Mungojerrie didn't speak to him. Raithen saw the kit's bloody paw-tips and sighed. "You really _are_ strong-willed, aren't you? _Anything_ to get back to your sister."

His last sentence knocked some sense back into Mungojerrie, "Where... where is she?" He mumbled _just_ loudly enough for the Sphynx to hear; his voice was gone from his wailing.

"In my quarters, waiting for me to bring you to her." Nebula's got the door locked in case she decides to come looking. He walked around in front of the fallen tom and picked his head up. "I don't make mistakes, comrade. I know it was her... I saw those same flowers in a vase on your windowsill just months ago. I figured she'd thrown them away when they died." He had Mungojerrie in the perfect state to reason with him—traumatized, gutted. He couldn't possibly still have the strength to deny and defend her. Still, the tom had nothing to say. "I really have to applaud your tenacity... I've never seen a lad cherish their sibling so much. _I_ never had any, you see... and when I had enough of my father telling _me_ I was responsible for them and our mother dying at birth, I went off on my own. I guess such a love is trifling to me." He shrugged. "Hm. Food for thought."

Raithen squeezed Mungojerrie's cheeks between his thumb and fingers, "Now then, on the topic of your sister... what to do with her..." He saw the kit's eyes go wide and pursed his lips. "I don't think a queen who's audacious enough to _murder_ her foes is a good fit around here. I know how fond she is of that tree by the well—"

"NO!" Mungojerrie grabbed whatever vocal strength he had left in him to cry out. He threw his paws to the bald cat's shoulders. "No, no, no! Please! _Please!_ Don't hurt my sister! What do you want? Whatever it is I'll do it if you leave her alone!"

"I'm sorry, lad, but it's out of the question. Naughty kitties _must_ be punished. Were you not listening when I told you Ixion's story? I give you a home and _this_ is how you two thank me?"

If he was going to kill Rumpleteazer one way or another... then he was ready to die with her rather than let Raithen keep him alive. In fact, why let her die at his paws? Why didn't they just _both_ go ahead and...

"Although," Raithen startled him out of his dark thoughts, "there is another solution to the problem before us." Mungojerrie couldn't help it; he let his expression lift hopefully. "Your sister wouldn't have gotten such a dastardly idea if it weren't for the flowers being brought to her in the first place. I know _Axel's_ quite fond of the cheeky little queen, chasing her by the tail. I know it was _him_ who brought her the flowers."

Was he really saying...?

"The supplier of the murder weapon is just as guilty in _my_ book. And I'm sure your sweet, loving sister wouldn't dare think of ending my life on her own now, would she? Terrible Axel must've put the plan into her head and thought he could get away with it! The monster!"

Raithen was toying with him. Mungojerrie knew that _he_ knew it was all Rumpleteazer's doing and that Axel was innocent. The idea was no-less enticing... No, he didn't want to see Axel, someone his sister clearly cared about, hurt... but he wanted, needed, his sister alive. This was the better outcome.

"Tell me, my friend, shall we punish the tom who has wrongfully caused this crime to happen?" Mungojerrie could but force out a hoarse whisper. The first time, it was because of his sore throat. The second time he tried to answer, he hesitated. He thought sending someone to be tortured to save his sister would be easy, but his paper-thin heartstrings tugged desperately. Raithen furiously shook him, snapping each and every thread the tom had linked towards his conscience. "SPEAK UP."

"It was him!" He sputtered without thinking. He quivered, "Now leave my sister alone." Raithen let him go and he fell onto his chest; his fingers were so numb that he couldn't even feel how much they hurt from where he'd cut them.

"I'll speak to my court about having him dealt with... oh, and try not to wake your sister up when you go inside. She's nice and warm in her blanket." Mungojerrie looked up at him in realization that he had been lying this whole time. She was safe.

—

He lied down in a daze for only ten minutes before Rumpleteazer came back to their room with a cup of tea. "Here," she sat on the edge of the bed and helped him drink, "this'll help your throat." Mungojerrie drank without even acknowledging she was with him; not even her presence offered him consolation. She put the cup down. "Jerrie, what happened?" She asked, taking his paw. "I know there must be _something_ going on that you're not telling me." His mind was lost, trapped with the dark contents of what he was locked away with for a good half-an-hour. "Jerrie." She shook his arm and he looked at her. Just looked. He didn't _see_. She put her paws on his face, searching in his eyes for her brother. "I'm here."

Out of nowhere, she saw his eyes redden and fill with tears. He couldn't speak, but he mouthed to her three sincere words the two rarely spoke aloud to each other, for the fact was obvious enough. Rumpleteazer held him tightly, _knowing_ something was wrong, but for now let it go.

—

"Excuse me, lad and lass?" Said a subordinate of Raithen's later in the day, "You're both wanted in the field. It's urgent."

"What is it?" Asked Rumpleteazer. The cat's ears flattened and he bowed his head, hinting that it wasn't something good. He left the door open so they could follow him out into the foggy, snowy day. The entire tribe was gathered before the alder tree, which meant before the well. Mungojerrie stood with his sister in the back, only close enough so he wouldn't be spotted by Raithen, who had a wool vest over his cold, naked body.

The wind bristled the Bengal's fur right as he saw him grab Axel and shove him down to the ground. Rumpleteazer shuddered and grabbed his arm, not certain to what was happening.

"Look now," Raithen started, "you have before you a traitor! A once-faithful and trusted compeer turned deserter the moment he poisoned my wine." The Serengeti didn't resist when he clawed his face, leaving three, deep cuts that bled down his cheek. "I'm surprised at you. For a close comrade knows what happens to traitorous beasts around here."

Out the corner of his eye, Mungojerrie could see Rumpleteazer looking up at him. But he couldn't. If he saw her face, this would only be more difficult.

"However... the crime of trying to seize leadership for yourself is one thing, but to murder a near and dear friend. _That_ requires something else." The toms all watched in silence as two stepped forward and held Axel still. Some toms looked away, others were shaking their heads, but Mungojerrie, feeling that he too deserved to be punished, dared himself to watch, unblinking, unmoving.

"Raithen—" Axel suddenly said as soon as he saw Raithen deploying his claws, "Raithen, _please_ , Raithen!"

"It will all be over soon." He told him politely before he started peeling the skin off torso. Axel's pleas only became louder and more hysterical. At one point, he finally screamed for someone to help him.

Rumpleteazer lost all composure and when she pulled away from Mungojerrie, swimming to the front of the crowd, she was only able to see just what Raithen was doing in plain view.

Axel, not even thinking, screamed her name, "Teazer! _Teazer, help! HELP!_ " Soon, no coherent words could come out as he could only scream a scream _twice_ as devastating as the one Mungojerrie had given that morning. Finally, the only thing that silenced him was when Raithen tore his neck open. He didn't drop him into the well right away, not until Rumpleteazer looked up from where she'd collapsed, with tears in her eyes, and saw what was left of him.

She let out what was meant to be a scream, but only came out as a stifled wail.

Mungojerrie didn't turn away until he heard the Serengeti's body hit the bottom of the well.


	34. Magic

**Old Deuteronomy**

The tom felt a paw brush his face and he opened his eyes to see his silver kitten standing before him. His ears were low and his eyes were sad.

"Dad?"

"My boy, do you know what time it is?" He mumbled groggily.

"I had the dream again..." Munkustrap replied shyly. Old Deuteronomy knew just what he was talking about; he'd had it twice this week.

He sat up a little from his blanket. "Sweet boy, there's nothing to be afraid of. Go back to sleep." Munkustrap still looked perturbed. He took a step backwards but hesitated to leave his father's safe presence. Old Deuteronomy sighed. "Munkustrap, you're too old for this. Nightmares can't hurt you."

"But they still scare me." He whimpered. "You told me leaders don't get scared." Said the nine-year-old.

"No, you misheard me." He explained, though tired. "A leader can get scared, but should choose _not_ to be when it comes to defending others."

The kit winced. "How do you just _not_ be scared?"

"I know it sounds ridiculous, but when someone else's life matters more to you than your own, it'll make sense."

"But what if I'm still scared?"

"Son, now's not the time to ask such questions." The old tom was too drowsy and irritable to have any patience with the kitten. "Go lie down now. It'll be all right."

The kit hummed sadly and went back to the cat-bed he shared with his brother, who was fast asleep. The Maine Coon was a _far_ better sleeper than the tabby had ever been. Though he was more rambunctious during the day compared to the quiet Egyptian Mau, he at least got settled down and _stayed_ asleep when it was time to. Old Deuteronomy knew he shouldn't be so hard on the little one for being frightened by his own dreams—he was young.

The next morning, Old Deuteronomy walked with Munkustrap to the center of the junkyard. "Someday, you'll be sitting on that podium when you take your place as leader, and your mate will be beside you." Old Deuteronomy scarcely missed Munkustrap's lip twitch at the thought. "And one day, you'll present the next heir of the Jellicle Tribe to the crowd."

Munkustrap froze. "Do I _have_ to have kittens?"

"Well, _you_ won't have them. Your mate will." The old tom chortled. "If the Everlasting Cat is kind, you'll have a _bundle_ of kits."

"But what if I can't? You said a lot of your wives didn't have any kittens."

"That's why I _had_ many wives. If one cannot produce, you must find another."

Munkustrap creased his brow. "Isn't that mean?"

"Of course not. It's what has to be done. We don't marry for personal reasons, my boy. It's what a leader does to help keep his tribe growing." He said as he caressed the kit's chin. "You'll have toms _and_ queens, I assure you. _Plenty_ of them."

"But what if I don't? Everyone will hate me."

Old Deuteronomy shook his head at him. " _Nobody_ could hate you, my sweet boy." The gargantuan cat knelt down to the tiny tom's height. "When I was younger, the mere _thought_ of taking the throne petrified me. When my father died unexpectedly, I was only twenty-five and had no other choice. Suddenly every decision I made could affect the tribe's well-being. But it'll come to you naturally, I promise you."

Munkustrap lowered his ears, cerulean eyes looking worried. "But what if it doesn't?" _He worries so much_. Thought Old Deuteronomy, who could only sigh. Perhaps it was a good thing that he worried—he cared for this tribe and how he would take care of it.

"Let's see if you remember your lessons. Who was the first leader of the Jellicles?"

"Mercutio the Conqueror." Answered the Mau.

"And who succeeded him?"

"Abel the Fair. They were both Nebelungs. Mercutio supposedly arrived to England by boat from America. He was a ship cat meant to eat rats... he was the leader for fifty-five cat years before his son Abel took his place."

"Why was he called 'Conqueror?'"

"Because before he formed this tribe, he made it his mission to save a group of cats from being forced breeders at a mill. To do that, he had to take down two full-grown German Shepherds. He did and the cats decided to name him their leader." Old Deuteronomy nodded proudly at him. He remembered his facts. Old Deuteronomy and his son might not be conquerors like Mercutio, but they would be fair like Abel. So many leaders were named after them, up to Mercutio the fifth and Abel the sixth.

Munkustrap's name was _that_ close to being Mercutio, but his mother didn't like it. She wanted his name to be one that had never belonged to any other cat before. Perhaps future kits would be named after _him_ now. Old Deuteronomy quite liked the sound of Munkustrap the Fair, or the Brave. The elderly cat himself was often called the Loyal and the Wise. Munkustrap, however, didn't want to be brave. He wanted to be kind... at least that's what he'd said to his father. Being brave sounded scary whenever he thought about it. Rum Tum Tugger was 'brave,' and to him, brave meant jumping from rooftops and high tree branches.

From the moment Munkustrap was born, Old Deuteronomy and his son had a mirror-like closeness; almost a kind of symbiosis. They both worked hard and had an inclination to serve. But Munkustrap was a far more tender-hearted lad compared to the always serious and detached tom. Even in his youth, the Norwegian Forest cat had no need to make his emotions known. He felt secure that others knew what he was feeling without having to say or show them. He and Tugger had _that_ in common as the kit grew older... that was something he wasn't aware of until long after he began his troubled behavior.

Neither liked to _say_ their feelings; they just felt them. They weren't for anybody else. Except Old Deuteronomy could push those emotions aside when he needed to – Tugger made it quite plain when he didn't like something. Old Deuteronomy tried to pass on to both his sons a strong work ethic and the value of such accomplishments... except Munkustrap was much clumsier in his interactions with others because of his shyness, and Rum Tum Tugger didn't care to please anybody but himself. He acted immediately, not caring what would happen to him in the future.

Some called him rebellious, strong-willed, independent. Other called him selfish. He'd intentionally say things that contradicted his brother or father just to show how 'individualistic' he was. In reality, he was just frustrated and bitter.

It was Old Deuteronomy's _own_ emotional detachment that made him lose sight of how stressed Munkustrap was and how lonely Tugger had gotten. The tom had not let this happen unintentionally; it's just he was raising them how _he_ had been! Of course, Old Deuteronomy grew up as a single-kitten; no siblings. He was used to the isolation and presumed Tugger would get by the same ways _he_ did. But unlike Munkustrap, Tugger _wasn't_ just like him, nor would he try to be. He wouldn't emulate his every single move like his older brother did; he wanted to be like no one else but himself, and Old Deuteronomy would've respected that had the Maine Coon not shown it so churlishly.

When his young son had to be carried home covered in blood, that was when the old Jellicle leader finally began to ponder how he'd gotten to this point. What could've led him there? Tugger might deliberately _act_ like one, but he was no fool. One just doesn't go from a smart kitten into a stupid teenager. An irresponsible one, maybe, but _not_ stupid. His common sense alone should've told him not to stray into another tribe's territory—so _why?_ All he knew was that his younger tom just loved getting into trouble, but not the life-threatening kind. Maybe this was just a wild night gone out of paw. Indeed, he should think so! But what happened to his sweet boy?

That's just what he asked him before he disappeared for three days. "What happened to you? Where's the sweet kit that used to jump on my back every morning? That used to play with his brother? That was always happy and smiling?" Rum Tum Tugger gave him no answer. Instead he furiously brushed past him and over the gates. "Don't come back until you have an answer!" He'd shouted, having been punched by heartbreak. After was when Munkustrap came over and tried to give him the idea to mediate together as a family, talk it out. But Old Deuteronomy of all cats was the one that didn't want to cooperate. He decided to accept that his younger and last living son was a lost cause... but he'd been wrong.

—

He was already lying unconscious on the street when Old Deuteronomy found him on King's Road. The large cat had fled through the city as if he were some looming shadow sprinting through the night air. Seeing his own son like that... it was the worst feeling anyone could ask him to describe. Worse than describing what it felt like to know Macavity was out there causing harm to other cats and becoming a household name for his crimes. But he didn't panic. With dignity and reserve, Old Deuteronomy knelt down and listened for a heartbeat. It kept going.

Still fighting, like always.

Carrying him home was not easy physically nor emotionally. He wanted his son to wake up so he'd know he was all right, but also hoped he'd stay down _only_ so he wouldn't be in any pain. By the looks of his abrasions and gashes, there was _much_ pain for him to endure. Nothing that wouldn't heal, nothing he couldn't clean himself. He stayed awake the rest of the night until Tugger's eyes opened and he tried to move. He definitely wouldn't be running away for a _long_ while. Munkustrap took care of him while he was practically immobile, but Old Deuteronomy had to assist in helping him walk again. Every deep breath he took was absolute agony to his chest because of the broken ribs he'd received. But he _had_ to take deep breaths _because_ he was in so much pain. The nights had been so bad for him that he needed poppy milk just to sleep, and he still looked to be in terrible discomfort.

None of this could be any fun for him, but Old Deuteronomy would silently tell himself, _He must learn. This is how he'll learn not to be so careless_. He didn't _enjoy_ seeing his son in pain, not at all, but maybe this would finally be his lesson learned. In a twisted way, the elderly cat was enjoying the fact that the Maine Coon now somewhat relied on him just to get through the day. He _wanted_ to take care of him and show him he loved him... it occurred to him only _then_ how little affection he'd gotten to show him the past few years. Munkustrap had always been the dutiful son and caring older brother, but what Old Deuteronomy been? He began asking himself that every day as Tugger recovered, even the days he could walk to both ends of their abode without help. Soon he could climb again.

He realized how admirable his son's resilience was; something Old Deuteronomy had failed to notice. And all these years, he could've ran away, having every opportunity in the world to, but always came home. His son still loved him. He was _trying_. _Trying so hard_ to do right by his own way, but Old Deuteronomy could not see it. _He'd_ driven him to King's Road. Him.

He remembered after dinner, their first dinner in a while that the three had together as a family, Munkustrap had left to go to bed and Tugger stayed behind, wanting to say something to his father in private. The gesture surprised him, but wouldn't guess his own son would grow nervous and change his mind as quickly as he'd brought it up. Old Deuteronomy was going to spend some time reading before he went to sleep, but Tugger came back later on.

 _I never meant to cause you any sorrow_  
 _I never meant to cause you any pain_  
 _I only wanted to one time to see you laughing_  
 _I only wanted to see you_  
 _Laughing in the purple rain_

 _Purple rain, purple rain_  
 _Purple rain, purple rain_  
 _Purple rain, purple rain_  
 _I only wanted to see you_  
 _Bathing in the purple rain..._

Tugger, in his own unique way, was apologizing. He was telling him for the first time how he felt. He just wanted him to be proud of him for whom he was, like he was proud of Munkustrap. But couldn't he _see_ he was proud? Proud of his leopard? From the moment he'd been born, he'd been his feisty, fiery warrior. No power on earth could change that. The song and his son's gentle voice moved him so much that the tom clasped his arms around him – carefully so he didn't hurt his sore body – and wept. He sobbed into his son's chest for the first time. His first time sobbing into _anyone_. It stopped Tugger short as he returned the hold, more shaken than sorrowful.

"Pop?" He asked, his voice full of disbelief. Indeed, he'd never seen his father cry before. He put his muzzle to his father's fur and smoothed his paw up and down his back, _that_ close to crying with him. His eyes went red and watery, but that was the most he'd let show for now. No one would believe this moment ever happened if he told anyone, not even Munkustrap... but that was all right. This moment was for them. Nobody else.

* * *

 **Bombalurina**

Bombalurina hadn't been home when she heard the news of Macavity's demise.

"Macavity's dead?" She gasped incredulously.

"Yes! I'd seen his own rats picking off his corpse!"

"You're lying."

"No!" Exclaimed the tom she'd been courting that evening. Bombalurina put it together; Tugger and Munkustrap had been gone for two days looking for their father and the cat that took him suddenly passed? There could be no other explanation—his brothers finally gave the Hidden Paw his comeuppance.

The Somali felt like she was in a dream. "Macavity is dead." She said aloud to see if she'd wake up. He hadn't been dead the day before, but he was now. As she strided home, she put together _who_ had done him in. There was no way it was Munkustrap. He'd want to, he'd say so himself, but he couldn't. Tugger was the one, then. He probably could've taken him down any time he wanted, but didn't have any means to until now. He wasn't a killer; Bombalurina knew that.

But if Tugger _had_ killed him, instead of just bringing home his father, then it couldn't mean anything good... And no, it did not. Losing Old Deuteronomy had left the queen more breathless than hearing about Macavity. It was equal to losing a grandfather, if not her own father. But cry as she may, along with every other Jellicle cat, her pain could never be compared to the two tomcats in the back of the crowd at his funeral pyre. She had wanted to go talk to the brothers and perhaps try to soothe their woes, but Munkustrap was talking to no one and Tugger was nowhere to be found. That probably meant she should leave them alone.

But the empath inside of her just wanted to hug them both and tell them the pain would pass... even if it sounded like everything else everyone had been telling them. Bombalurina took to consoling the kittens and the other elders, who were taking the death of their old friend _especially_ hard. But their hearts ached not for themselves, but Old Deuteronomy's sons.

"That kills me the most." Jellylorum said to her one day, "Those poor, young toms lost their father so soon. He's not going to get to see Munkustrap take the crown, neither boy have their own kittens... It'll hurt _them_ that he isn't there too." Bombalurina couldn't hear it; not while she was already thinking about poor Munkustrap and beastie. Even when she couldn't find them, she thought about them, waiting for the right moment to share her sorrows with them. Even when things seemed better for a short period of time, the flood of sadness would swim over the tribe once again, drowning everyone. During these times, Tugger would leave the area and Bombalurina would be inclined to follow like she used to. Even if he wouldn't talk to her, she'd sit nearby in case he seemed to need someone—he could claim he _didn't_ all he wanted. Did he not tell her before she left 'thank you for being my friend?' She wanted to live up to that. Once she got close to him, placed her paw on his shoulder with a soft, reassuring grin, but Tugger didn't even glance her way. It was like when he got like this, the world around him didn't exist. He would gaze off into the distance like something was calling him: a future he could never have. One where his father lived the long final life he deserved.

It'd be a month before Tugger would speak to her again, and the red queen was able to get him reveal to her his bloody nightmares; things not even his kitten self could imagine coming up with in his sleep. He told her in his dreams he would see his father burning, covered in flames, screaming. Macavity back from the dead with rotting flesh. Sometimes Tugger would dream just that his father was there with them; whole and peaceful. But when he'd open his eyes in the morning, half-awake, he'd think for just a moment that Old Deuteronomy was alive, but then remember the truth and feel him die all over again.

Bombalurina would tell him that grief is crippling, but as soon as she'd try to discuss the business with his father, he'd get up and leave like she'd said something offensive. She understood on his part that discussing the grief _objectively_ was easier than going into the _deeper_ part of it. To him, they were silly dreams, at least he acted like it. He'd never confess how terribly the loss was hurting him, not like his brother could. It worried her more than perhaps it should. She couldn't imagine bottling everything up inside—nor _why_ anyone would want to if it stung so badly.

She'd watched the poor tom kit grow from a cheerful little bloke into a lonesome one. She was stunned to see he now had _all_ the attention when she returned home, but didn't blame the queens giving it to him. _I should've seen it coming. Don't we all take one-eighty turns in our life?_ Indeed, Bombalurina herself had gone from swinging with toms night after night to saving herself just for one. Her only one. Her beastie.

—

 _He's so cold_. Bombalurina thought when she pressed a paw to his cheek. The two older queens had left the generator on to keep some warmth on him and wrapped him in blankets, but were tiring out from the stressful work. Bombalurina offered to keep watch of him, pressing damp cloths of warm water on him like she'd been instructed. She couldn't even move his arm aside to make him comfortable, that's how frozen he was. Jenny had closed his eyes so they wouldn't dry out—it made the rust-colored queen thankful she wouldn't have to look into his glazed eyes anymore. At that moment, _her_ eyes began to water. _I can't lose my beastie_.

Losing him would only make _everything_ worse. Munkustrap would break. The Copperkits would have a victory. The kittens would be left with no uncle and the tribe without their best hunter. She wondered what the _other_ kittens would say, specifically the young queens that adored him. It wouldn't just be losing an idol or a schoolgirl crush; they'd be losing someone like family to them. Someone they'd known their entire lives so far. Someone _Bombalurina_ had known since he was born, just a tiny, wriggling kitten wrapped in blankets and rasping for air. And now he lied before her, nearly-lifeless wrapped in blankets.

Was she meant to watch him both be born and die?

The silence was killing her. Her thoughts were as dark as this unending night. Her mind went back to the kittens for some reason, to Demeter telling them a story. That dumb fairytale where true love saves the day. The queen would figure out _someday_ that fairytales weren't true... the Somali had to learn the hard way. True love was real, maybe, but it didn't solve anyone's problems. She loved the tom she met off in Europe and he only hurt her for five years until she kicked him to the dirt. Munkustrap's love for his family only caused him stress and grief these past few months.

Tugger's love for his brother and his kittens were what might be sending him to an early grave. He looked so pale; not enough blood to give him color. His heart was slowing. Bombalurina was shot by a sob and she covered her mouth. She was a grown cat, and she didn't cry unless it was warranted... but she truly believed this was the last time she'd see him. No proper goodbye, no telling him the truth of what her heart wanted. And _she_ would never hear the truth... she would never know what lied in his soul.

Without thinking, she gently cradled Tugger's head and chest. _Thank you for being my friend._ She closed her eyes and pressed a kiss to his lips before pulling away, blinking away her tears. There. Should the worst come, she'd said goodbye. But no one would believe Bombalurina if she'd told them how it happened.

Right as she lied Tugger back down, his chest heaved. His eyes opened and he looked up at her. Alive. He kept blinking his green eyes as he struggled for air and warmth, and Bombalurina had felt so gut-punched that she almost didn't realize. He was still paralyzed from the cold, only able to communicate in pained moans. "Tugger! Tugger, oh my God!" She frantically pat him down with warm towels. "It's me! It's Bombie." She took his face so his eyes were looking into hers. "It's me!" She embraced him, both out of her relief and to help warm him.

It felt like it was just the two of them for that fleeting moment. It felt like magic had existed.

Maybe it did.


	35. Father

**Mungojerrie**

 _I'll throw your sister down there too if you even try to run. My boys will find you and she'll be with Axel again before she knows it. Then I'll lock you in the barn until you rot like everything else in there._

Mungojerrie understood now. When you're a Copperkit, you serve or you die. They were no better than flightless birds.

In their room on the second floor of the farmhouse, Rumpleteazer had given herself to the darkness. She kept the curtains closed and did nothing but sleep or hide under her blankets. Mungojerrie would come and go, bringing her food, but the dishes only kept piling up until he'd have to take it away again. She'd gone so still that Mungojerrie could never tell whether she was asleep or not.

In his own sleep, he'd hear Axel's voice screaming for him from the well, telling him everything burned down there. He'd stare at it from their frost-covered window for days; mind in a complete haze, only dragging himself away from it when Raithen called him to help get rid of strangers prowling the pasture or for him to steal some certain item he needed and bring it back to him. Raithen knew he wouldn't run without his sister, and so she wasn't even _permitted_ to go on heists or burglaries anymore... not that she was responsive to begin with.

Mungojerrie found himself getting fed up with her; yes, it was horrifying to see what happened to Axel, but they still had each other. The Bengal had _not_ enjoyed sending the innocent tom to his death, but if anything, Raithen might've done him in before Teazer anyway—Rumpleteazer was still important to the Copperkits; if they'd really wanted to get rid of the two of them, they would've done it by now. The Bengal was just going to let her ride out this catatonia, but then she got sick. Her stomach couldn't take the lack of nourishment and she expelled whatever was left in there all over the floor. It was so acidic that it stung her throat and when Mungojerrie rushed her to the bathroom and rinsed her mouth, he finally told her, "Teazer, listen to me." He took her by the face and made her look at him; she was sallow and red-eyed. "This won't do. Everything we've done so far has kept us alive. I need you to just _try_ to snap out of it." He said to make it sound like a plea and not a demand.

But deep down, it _was_ because he missed his smiling sister.

"Teazer, _please_." Mungojerrie sounded desperate now. To at least _hear_ her would make him feel better. She put her arms around him, her face sinking into his chest. He tried to help her stand. "Here, I'll take you to lie down." She didn't budge when he tried to get to his feet; she held him tightly and cried thick, swollen tears into his fur. He'd never heard her cry like this; like a kitten that lost their parents and couldn't find them. Like they'd been told they'd _never_ find them.

"I killed him." She wailed into his chest. "I killed him! I did this!" Her voice was so broken and hysterical he could barely understand her.

Mungojerrie shushed into her hair and tenderly took her face now. "No. Teazer, you didn't do this. You didn't cause this." The tears running down her face were enough to wash her clean.

"I loved him," she wept, "I loved him so much." Her forehead fell onto his shoulder and she plastered herself around him. She might've had the other's graces at her command because of her fake smile, but Axel really _did_ make her happy. Mungojerrie held her and rocked her. This was the cost of survival. His dear sister might've underestimated Raithen's wrath, but Mungojerrie did not.

—

The twins were having dinner together in the kitchen when Raithen approached them. Mungojerrie shot him a nasty leer and focused on his plate and Rumpleteazer didn't even greet him.

"Lass," he said to her, "I never got to offer my apologies for having to do what I did to Axel." Mungojerrie knew how much that had to sting. He just _wanted_ to hurt her. Mungojerrie grit his teeth behind his lips. "It was a nasty bit of business... I know you two were very fond of each other." Both he and Teazer knew that, under his smile, he wanted to make her squirm. Mungojerrie bit his lower lip to keep from cursing the Sphynx, but Rumpleteazer calmly wiped her mouth with a napkin.

"Axel was a traitor." She said at once. "Traitors must get the punishment they deserve." Her reflexes amazed Mungojerrie. "I never would've guessed he was unloyal to you. But my brother and I are."

"Of course you are." Raithen said. _As loyal as a fox surrounded by bloodhounds_. Thought Mungojerrie. "Maybe when the snow clears, I can send you both back on the field... or maybe I'll put you to work around the pasture. Just something to keep you both busy and not stuffed up in here."

"It would be most kind of you." Replied the queen in her prettiest voice, with the prettiest smile. Mungojerrie couldn't stand how good she was at this sometimes. "Wouldn't it be, brother?" She asked him.

"Of course." He croaked out, shoving more food in his mouth. There were plenty of things he would do to survive, but playing nice wasn't one of them. Honestly, he and Raithen were past that.

"Do you think about having kittens, Rumpleteazer?" Raithen asked and Mungojerrie nearly spit out his food. Even Rumpleteazer tripped a little in her movements.

She laughed, "What queen doesn't? It's a natural want."

"Your brother tells me you're spayed. Such a wicked thing for humans to do."

"Yes," Teazer answered quickly, "it's a shame. But there's nothing stopping me from adopting one day."

Raithen sniggered. "Well, you're very pretty. I'm sure you'll have plenty of mates in your life, spayed or not." At that, Mungojerrie felt his throat tighten. Indeed, the bald cat was trying his patience.

"You really are too kind." She knew the words by rote. "I've got plenty of time before that happens, though."

Raithen put his paws on the table, leaning forward. "If only I were a few years younger. I could be so lucky to have found someone like you."

Right as Raithen went to trace his claws gently across Rumpleteazer's face, Mungojerrie stabbed his cutting knife into the table, making the plates rattle. "I'm through with this ridiculous conversation."

"Jerrie, my dear brother!" Rumpleteazer took his paw. "It was nothing more than a compliment. Raithen himself has said he's _far beyond_ his prime to do anything of the sort." She said so courteously that Mungojerrie almost missed that she had insulted him. Seeing the ugly tom's jaw twitch at her remark had made it all worth it.

"Yes... forgive me." Mungojerrie said, holding back a spasm of rage despite himself. "I misunderstood."

"It's not wise to let a few simple words set you off, mate."

Mungojerrie's face twisted into a piercing glare. "I'm afraid I'm not very wise." Rumpleteazer had made her own cruel joke, well, now so had Mungojerrie. Except it was the world's joke against _him_ that he was not a wise lad. A smart one, but not a wise one.

Later, when he was climbing the stairs to go to he and his sister's room, he found himself startled by bumping into Mosstail. Had Teazer been with him, he would've shoved right past him with her arm in his paw, but for some reason he simply stepped aside to let him go by. Something was irking him, and Mungojerrie flung around quickly. "Hey." He called. The Russian Blue stopped and turned around. He hated to look upon the tom that had dared to try and besmirch his sister, but he was the lesser of two evils in this tribe. "I... I want to have a word with you." He said, trying to sound dignified. Mosstail nodded and waited for him to speak. Mungojerrie clarified, "In private."

Mosstail shook his head then, as if he were now anxious to leave. Moving like a shadow, Mungojerrie took him by the arm and drug him into the bathroom where he locked the door. "Mosstail, neither of us have to like each other. Let's just get that out the way. But I need you to tell me what Raithen plans to do with us. Is he going to hurt my sister?" Mosstail shook his head. "Me?" Mosstail blinked, shrugging his shoulders. "Christ, won't you speak?" He grabbed his arms in frustration. "What did he do to you after... you know what I'm talking about!"

The Russian Blue glimpsed up from the floor and lowered the Bengal's paws. When he opened his mouth for him, revealing a row of teeth and... nothing else. There was no tongue to be seen; it had been cut from the root. Mungojerrie's eyes bulged and he tried his best not to look away. _So he_ did _pay for his crime after all_. Mungojerrie told himself. That explained the others that never spoke... but why hadn't he done that to Axel instead of killing him?

"Mosstail, please." He desperately looked into his eyes now. "I have to ask you something else... did Raithen really kill Axel because of what my sister did?" Mosstail looked afraid, so Mungojerrie took his paws. "I'm begging you. I _need_ to know what I'm dealing with." Did he not already know? He was speaking to a cat without a tongue. "I'm not going to get you in trouble, I swear it." Mosstail shook his head. Did he not trust him? Mungojerrie couldn't blame him if he didn't. Or was he answering him. "He didn't?" Mosstail shook his head again. "You're saying he was going to kill him anyway?" Mosstail nodded. "Why?"

This was going to be difficult. Mungojerrie looked around for something, _anything_ he could maybe write on. But being in the bathroom, there was nothing of use. Mosstail, however, pointed at the young tom. "Me?" He asked. Mosstail pointed to him again, "He killed him because of me..." His face went solemn for a second, but then Mosstail pointed to him _again_ , trying to make sense of his actions. "Me... and my sister?" Mosstail rapidly shook his head. He lifted his paw in the air and made the shape of a tall cat. "Axel?" Mosstail then used his paws to make the motion of two figures sneaking about. "He was..." Mungojerrie's heart fell, "He was going to help us escape?" The Russian Blue quickly nodded again. Mungojerrie couldn't believe any of this. It was _Axel_ who had not been careful then. Being so close to Raithen, it was _harder_ to keep any secrets.

Then he realized something even more profound: that Axel loved his sister. He loved Rumpleteazer so much that he would let her run away with the possibility of never seeing her again... but Axel had made a mistake. He was a Copperkit. And when you're a Copperkit, you serve, or you die.

—

The winter passed; spring had returned to the city. The twins had not even celebrated their own birthday upon the season's arrival—instead, March rolled by like it was just another month. The twins of eighteen had little time left before the Sphynx figured out they must be of age now. Mungojerrie knew he'd let his toms do what they liked to his sister whether she was spayed or not; he knew why. Raithen hated him. He hated him because he figured out his little game more quickly than the rest of his goons. So he had to keep him under control.

Unfortunately for Mungojerrie, Raithen was excellent at that. He made it no secret that just because he would work for him, it didn't mean he had any cordial feelings towards him. It made no sense how he could just calmly sip on tea, listen to his classical records, and read with the knowledge that he had rotting bodies at the bottom of their well. At one point, as the Bengal tom was dusting the old tom's quarters as he read, the young kit felt inclined to ask, "Tell me something. Does it make you feel good to know that you've killed cats?" The Sphynx casually peered up from his book. On the record player was _Swan Lake,_ _No. 5 Pas de deux - Andante - Allegro - Molto più mosso._ If the tom had to hear _one more_ Tchaikovsky song, he swore he'd smash the record player into a million pieces.

"Funny you ask me that." The wrinkly cat responded. "I happen to be reading a book that studies a similar query." He showed the teenager the cover, _Crime and Punishment_. "But let me ask _you_ something first. What do you think?"

"What does it matter what I think? I'm just a servant here, no better than the filth you pile up in the barn."

"But you _are_ better, I can put you to work!" He gleefully poured himself some more tea. "You know, there was a quote in here that reminded me of you." Mungojerrie pricked his ears up; this ought to be good. _"We sometimes encounter people, even perfect strangers, who begin to interest us at first sight, somehow suddenly, all at once, before a word has been spoken."_ Raithen read aloud. "The moment I saw you and your sister, I had a feeling you wouldn't be lousy slackers like the rest."

"You're forgetting that I asked you a question." Mungojerrie interrupted, annoyed.

"I'm getting to it, lad. There is another line in here." One thing Mungojerrie noticed about Raithen is that he loved to take notes while he read. All of his books were filled with annotations and underlined quotes. It was like they were his guidelines to running the pasture. Funnily enough, Mungojerrie would've _liked_ such an intellectual tom to have smart conversations with. He turned to the right page and read, _"Power is given only to him who dares to stoop and take it... one must have the courage to dare."_ He closed the book. "So you see, lad, to be an effective leader, you need to have power. To have power, you must take it. Take it at any given opportunity. But what good is power if there is no one to see that you have it?"

"So you kill for power." Mungojerrie concluded. "You really are just a sick lout."

"I have a question for _you_. If you were given the chance to step to the top, to have everyone and everything here in the palm of your paw... would you not take it?" Mungojerrie didn't answer him. "Everything is so much better when you're at the top, mate. You'd never have to worry about anyone hurting you or your sister again."

"And to do that I'd have to kill _you._ " Mungojerrie said without thinking, but it made Raithen laugh.

"You might have to." His infected eye squinted closed when he smiled. "Poor Axel thought he'd get you out of here the humane way. But mate, you don't get anywhere the humane way. Believe me, I learned that myself once... and one day another bloke I used to know might have to learn too." Mungojerrie laid his ears down and went back to cleaning. Raithen turned the record off and went back upstairs. The Bengal got to thinking.

 _Power is given only to him who dares to stoop and take it... one must have the courage to dare._

* * *

 **Munkustrap**

It was seconds after he was told Rum Tum Tugger was awake that Munkustrap ran from his den straight to where his brother was. The tabby was met with the sight of Bombalurina and Jellylorum once again patting him down with warm, damp towels, but Tugger was reacting now. It was like getting a newborn baby to cry. "Come on." Jelly was saying. "Come on, we got you." Only one of his paws was moving, his lip was twitching as he could only moan out in pain. Still, every noise he made was a good sign. "Give me another one, sweeting." Pleaded the she-cat, wiping his face. Tugger forced out another sound, struggling to get air in. Bombalurina seemed to reel each time he made a noise—she was just so thankful.

It took all of Munkustrap's willpower not to shove them both aside and embrace his brother. He waited until Jelly gave him room to come to his side. "Tugger." He pressed his face close to his, still so cold. His breath hitched as he tried to speak. "Tugger, it's me. I'm so happy you're okay." He saw that though his brother was looking at him, he couldn't _see_ him. Well, he could see, but not comprehend. That didn't stop Munkustrap from showing his relief. "I love you so much."

"Can you swallow?" Jellylorum asked Tugger, assuming she'd even get a response. He said nothing. All the Maine Coon knew was cold. "I'm going to get him something warm to drink just in case." Munkustrap nodded, eyes not leaving his little brother. He still had a hold of his freezing paw that twitched in his grasp as Tugger tried to close his fingers. The tabby realized just how hard he was fighting to get his body to work again.

He took his face in his other paw, "You're a warrior, Tugger." He said as if it would mean anything to a hypothermic cat. It didn't matter. Munkustrap had to tell him to keep fighting. He looked at his wounds again; the blood around the open gaps had dried and hardened onto his fur. At least it was winter, which meant he didn't have to worry about any insects getting on them. The tabby tentatively licked away the dried blood from his shoulder. "I've got you. I've always got you." Munkustrap told him in a voice as gentle as the wind. The silver-and-black tom only left the den when Jellylorum came back to treat him some more. Bombalurina wasn't allowed inside either. She was holding a blanket around herself for warmth; snow was still flurrying through the air.

"Are you cold?" She asked Munkustrap.

"I'll be fine." Even though he said that, the Somali saw he had his arms around himself in a chilly hug and so she shared the blanket with him. Neither would be leaving anytime soon. They noticed the sky getting lighter as the night was finally coming to an end. That was good—the air just might be warmer and on their side.

"We're not gonna lose Tugger." He said more to himself than the scarlet queen beside him. "We _can't_ lose him." He spoke these words just so someone else besides himself could hear his worry. Munkustrap then thought of something. "Can you go check on Demeter please? Tell her I need to stay with Tugger for a little bit." Bombalurina nodded, about to leave the blanket for him, but he insisted she take it with her. His kittens just might need an extra one.

Another five minutes went by, which felt like a lifetime because of the silence and dread, before Jelly stuck her head out and said Munkustrap could come inside. "He's getting there, just keep an eye on him while I get him another blanket." The Egyptian Mau could not have heard anything better at that moment. Inside the den where Tugger was lied back onto pillows with a heavy blanket over him, he was breathing at a steady pace now. He was still so pale, so weak.

Munkustrap sat beside him and felt his face. It was cold, but not like earlier. His blood was flowing again. Munkustrap didn't have to say anything; just to be beside him was comforting. Not just in how weary he looked, but Tugger looked nothing like himself. His mane was tangled and knotted and his eyes had no light in them. His brother knew that he wouldn't want anybody seeing him this way, and Munkustrap would do what he could to keep everyone away until he got better.

Tugger suddenly said, "I've got bad blood in me." His voice had been so hoarse and the fact he spoke at all was so startling that Munkustrap hadn't understood him. "Dad said I got bad blood. Macavity had bad blood, that's why I'm bad too." Had he gone completely insane? "That's why he died. That's why he killed our father."

Munkustrap winced at him. He wasn't well, he knew this. "Tugger, what are you talking about?"

Rum Tum Tugger looked into his brother's eyes as if they were strangers. "We were both standing right there and let him die... why didn't you fight him off?" Munkustrap felt a bullet pierce through his heart when he said that, but wondered if Tugger had _any idea_ what he was saying at all. "Where is he?" He asked out of nowhere.

"Who?"

 _"...Our father."_ Munkustrap's eyes fell. "I want to see him. I want to tell him I'm sorry." He tried to move but Munkustrap held his shoulders.

"Tugger... Dad's gone. He passed away." At that, Munkustrap watched Tugger's entire world crumble. Never, not once in his life, had the Mau seen his brother look so heartbroken, so tortured. Munkustrap himself about melted at the sight until his face took an angry turn.

"It's your fault." He said without knowing it, without meaning it. "You should've saved him." His words would've been much more painful had Munkustrap thought he had any control over his thoughts, but even someone as soft-hearted as him was more sensible than that. Tugger clawed into his brother's hold, trying to throw him off, "Why didn't you do anything?"

"Tugger!" Munkustrap held him off, but Tugger was trying his hardest to force his weak body to move so he could hurt _something_. _"Tugger, don't!"_

"Why did you let him die? Why did you let him die?" Tugger broke down, tears falling in parallel streams down his face as his words became less and less coherent. Jellylorum came flying in at the nick of time, pushing Munkustrap aside so she could put the blanket down, maybe console him, but even _she_ was disturbed seeing him like this. "I want my father back! He was my father! He was my father!" His voice deteriorated into desolate sobs, Munkustrap watched from only a few feet away, sucking back his own urge to cry with him.


	36. Loyalty

**Munkustrap**

At the cusp of daybreak, Munkustrap got his council together for a last-minute meeting. "I know now what we're dealing with. I didn't take Raithen's threats lightly before, but now I _know_ he's willing to abduct or maim a kitten and that he _must_ be stopped."

"He needs to die." Mungojerrie interjected, repeating himself from earlier that morning.

"Let me speak." Munkustrap ordered. "Yes, we need to be rid of Raithen, but it's not _him_ we have to take care of first. Nebula's our biggest threat. You can all agree with me on that, can't you?"

"He's the one who's been doing all his dirty work." Plato said. "It's like the old wanker doesn't have gnads of his own."

As rude as the comment was, there was a smidge of wisdom in those words. "He _is_ a coward. That's what gives us an edge. Jerrie, you told me yourself he's nothing but a manipulator."

"A manipulator that's waiting to kill you." Bemoaned Mungojerrie. "He's waiting until you wear out so he can snatch the tribe for himself. I know you're not so blind as to not see the shadow of his claws hanging over your neck."

"There are no claws. _Only_ a shadow." Demeter spoke up. "But this isn't going to go away if we keep sitting on our arses. That's the whole point of this meeting." She looked at Munkustrap. "You have a plan, don't you?"

"You're not going to have another _talk_ with him, are you?" Growled Alonzo, concerned for his comrade. Munkustrap gave no answer and Alonzo was so appalled that he couldn't speak. Even Demeter looked discontent. Mungojerrie, however, was not going to stay silent.

"My God, Munkustrap you're so obedient that you can't defy your _own_ passiveness?" Instead of rebuffing the Bengal, Munkustrap lowered his gaze. "You just acknowledged he's willing to hurt a child. _Your_ children. You put me on here to tell you what needs to be done, yet you don't listen. What's it going to take?"

"I'm not going to be remembered as the leader that started a war!" Bellowed the silver cat. "My father was murdered in cold blood. All it brought was turmoil and unrest for _all_ of us. I can't bear to put that burden on _any_ of you." Finally, Munkustrap felt like he and his council were all in the same room listening to one another; that he'd been heard. "I promised my father that when I become the leader, I would uphold everything the Jellicles stood for. Loyalty, dignity, humility... It's not in our blood that we tremble at every threat and immediately turn to violence. It's in us to do what's best for the tribe."

"Love," Demeter said after a moment of morose silence, "I understand how much you loved your father, we all do. We know he had his qualms for violence and so do you. Yes, it's a _vile_ thing to contemplate, but sometimes rulers _have_ to do vile things for the good of their subjects." Munkustrap's face fell when she said that. Even _her?_ "Queen Elizabeth the First beheaded her cousin, Mary, because she plotted to murder her. I doubt she found _any_ joy in ordering such a sentence, but it was for her people." Her ears twitched. "If _Macavity_ had not died the same night as your father, we might all still be suffering his villainy."

"And if I kill Raithen, does that make me any better than him?" Munkustrap replied lowly. "My father haunts me every day and every night because I couldn't protect him. If I don't at least live by what he spent years teaching me, he'll never find peace."

"And if you _do_ , neither will you." Mungojerrie spouted, earning looks from each of the cats around him. "Anyhow, we got far off topic. If we _did_ kill Raithen, who knows what Nebula would do to retaliate? He's more psychotic than the loon that barks orders at him."

"We'll take care of him _through_ Raithen." Munkustrap said, his more rational thoughts clouded by painful ones of his father.

"So you want to wait for him to come back and try and snatch one of your kits again?"

 _"Careful_ , Mungojerrie." Munkustrap snapped. "I don't want to take this lying down either; I _will_ make him answer for this." He sounded more determined now, but noticed Jerrie's eyes fall when he added, "I'll find him, but I don't want violence. I don't want threats."

"Mate, it's been too long this has gone on and you're still not listening to me."

"What would you have me do? Gouge out his insides?" Chided Munkustrap. "I don't believe fear to be an effective motivator. I'm taking care of things _my own_ way."

"So is Raithen." Snarled the Bengal. However, at Munkustrap's words, he began to think, "You want to go have a chat with him, fine. But get the facts... what made him hate your father so much? What made him hate _you_ so much?" His words stung like the burning of hot oil. Munkustrap still couldn't bring himself to comprehend the idea that anyone besides Macavity would've wanted to do his father harm. Perhaps it _was_ best to ask such questions instead of trying to appeal to him emotionally... how else could he finally understand? He wasn't getting anywhere on his own. It turns out not _every_ cat had a heart. He wanted to think so, but Macavity had not had one, therefore there were indeed others like him. He should've trusted his gut the moment he felt unsure of them.

God, why couldn't this be simpler? Why did he have to overthink so much? He just wanted to be with his kittens, to have his father back, to not have this thrown at him when he wasn't prepared mentally _or_ emotionally.

—

When Munkustrap arrived at the den where his shivering brother lied, Tugger was unresponsive yet again. Awake and breathing, but on another planet. Bombalurina had his head resting on her lap as she caressed and cradled his face, hoping to stroke a word out of him.

The grey tom knelt down beside them. "Is he okay?"

"He's still cold." Bombalurina answered sadly, stroking a lock of his mane. "I think it's safe to make a fire now, but I'd have to wait for Jenny... or even Mistoffelees."

"Just let him rest for now. I think the heater's enough." Munkustrap took another good look at his brother; he looked so vulnerable and desolate. His color was still so pale. "Tugger." He said to try and usher a response out of him. Although he got nothing, he went on, "I'm going to handle this... I'm gonna stop waiting for this to go away and _do_ something... Something _you'd_ probably be telling me to do right now." He smiled slightly, knowing it was true. "I should've done what you did a long time ago... I'm just not as brave as you." He said these words with meaning, but knew they fell on deaf ears. It had to be said either way. "I'm not going to let Raithen tear us apart."

As he spoke, he'd almost forgotten that Bombalurina was right there. It didn't matter as long as _somebody_ heard him. "I want you to keep an eye on him." Munkustrap said.

"I'm not leaving his side." Declared the scarlet Somali. She brushed her fingers across the Maine Coon's forehead again, only earning a slight twitch in response. He turned over to his side and rested his head back onto the pillow. Even in a state of disillusion, Tugger didn't like to be held.

Munkustrap put his paw on his shoulder, "I love you, Tiger." He whispered to him, knowing he wouldn't get a reaction, but hoping he would comprehend it in some way. _Any_ way. It was the truth, after all. Perhaps that was his own fatal flaw; his need to always be honest. Everyone else had it in them to play dirty, but not him, nor his father. Instead of going back to his own den or to leave the perimeters to find the bald cat himself, the Mau went to the central courtyard and looked at the podium. His father had been there, probably hearing the same sorts of things from his council, dealing with the same threats of usurpation... and now it was _his_.

For all these months, Munkustrap could never stomach looking at it. All it did was make him think of Old Deuteronomy. How he was gone. How he had no one to make proud or tell him how to ensure everything would be all right. Now everything was wrong. Inside, he felt something he didn't expect to feel as he stared down the podium.

The tom raked up whatever rocks and items he could from the snow-covered ground and chucked it at the mounted tire, pelting it with all of his rage. He snarled through his teeth, growling in his throat. He kept throwing whatever he could as if he had the power to destroy it, but nothing could even scratch it. Finally, he slipped in the snow and toppled onto his knees. His knees crumpled and he pulled on his fur, gritting his teeth to fight back a sob. He was done crying, yet he couldn't keep the tears away. It was all _so much._

Why could nobody see how hard this was? Why did it _have_ to be _his_ burden? If he was acting like this now, what kind of leader would he be _then?_ He was nothing. His father had no heir to be proud of. He pushed him for nothing. He died knowing his son couldn't take care of the tribe he'd raised, Munkustrap thought with a sore lump in his throat.

Arms folded around his chest from behind, the soft, gold-tinted ones of his wife as she shushed into his ear. There was nothing she could say to calm him this time.

"Everything's wrong." He whimpered. "I can't fix it." Demeter nuzzled her nose to his shoulder. "I'm not my father. I don't know what to do."

"Yes." Demeter said. "Yes, you do. Sometimes it has to be this way." She hugged him tighter. "No matter what you do, if it's to protect your tribe, your father would understand. He'll always love you." She spoke in such a soothing voice that shivers went down his arms. "He wouldn't want to see you like this." Demeter took his face and made him look at her so she could see his eyes. "He'd be so proud of you that you're trying. He'd know you're beating yourself up because you love your people as much as he did. You know your people love you and would do anything for you."

"I know. That's why I can't tell them to go out there and risk losing one of them. I have to handle this myself." He took a breath, abating his sob. "But I want to be a good tom. I can't let others think we solve our problems by _killing_ them. My father got through life without killing anyone." _And look where that led him_ a voice in his head suddenly knocked on his skull. He loved his father more than he could say... but he'd been passive too. Even with Macavity, as much as he tried to keep him away. No good deed goes unpunished. _That's_ how the world worked. His own father was punished for keeping his son, who was pure evil, alive.

...Had he made a mistake keeping _another_ certain someone alive as well? If anything, Old Deuteronomy wouldn't want Munkustrap making the same mistakes as he did. Demeter could see something changing in his eyes. Munkustrap finally, _finally_ understood something.

* * *

 **Rum Tum Tugger**

The leopard-spotted kitten sprung his feet from the branch he stood on to prop himself onto the one above him. His father had told him it was dangerous for a kitten this size to be up so high, but there was a bird up above just taunting him. He stretched his paws as high as he could over his head to reach for the other, not quite having the agility to just leap wherever he pleased yet. In his own world, he was a leopard leaning to hunt. To others, he was a kitten bound to crack his skull open one of these days.

The leopard cub prowled closer towards the great bird, chittering with his teeth as he neared his prey, eager to bring it home to show his father. He'll be so proud! It sat their preening, not knowing it was being watched intensely by a pair of jade-green eyes. Having its back turned was just the kit's incentive to come closer. With a few more steps and a small wiggle of his tush, he leapt forward and took the bird between his teeth. But with it, he went tumbling to the ground. Really, he wasn't as high up as his kitten-mind believed, but to him, he'd just survived a deathly fall.

The bird was still frantically fluttering its wings, but Rum Tum Tugger took his paw and held one down until it went still. He'd done it! When he trotted over to show Old Deuteronomy, he smiled and ruffled his fur. "Good boy." He chortled as the kit swished his tail, "You'll make a great hunter someday."

"I _am_ a hunter!" Boasted the kitten, adding a very ferocious hiss for effect, one that made his father and older brother nearby chuckle.

"Right. Well, hunter, it's time for your bath."

Tugger flattened his ears. "But I already had a bath..."

Old Deuteronomy folded his arms. "And then you snuck off and went climbing again." The Maine Coon then pouted, but what could he do? He grimaced all through his second bath and was then sent off to bed, which he shared with Munkustrap. Later, when they were presumed to be asleep by their father, Tugger planted his paws onto Munkustrap. "Hey, big bro!" He beckoned in his young voice. The sleepy Mau just stretched his arms and grunted. "You wanna read me a story?" While most nights the notion would be tempting, the silver kit was exhausted.

"M-mm. I'm tired."

The kit frowned. "Aw..." He fell onto his stomach, flat as a pancake. "I'm bored."

"So go to sleep."

"I'm too bored to _sleep!_ " How was that possible? It only made sense to a six-year-old. After a while of tossing and rolling, the kit found himself sleeping as well. He started to dream. His father was a great lion with silver fur and icy blue eyes—almost more like his brother. They did not live in a junkyard in the middle of the city, but in the savannah, with grass and sky going on for miles; something the kit could only imagine. His dreams were full of adventures, but sometimes danger. More often than not, the self-proclaimed leopard cub found himself being chased by creatures much larger than himself, being unable to run fast enough or climb high enough to escape; his claws and teeth didn't prove strong enough to scare them away. Tonight was one of those dreams. He was chased all the way to the top of the branches that kept going up and up. He tried to scream for his father or brother, but no sound came out of his throat. He might not have woken when he did had he not felt someone elbowing and nudging his chest.

"Tugger, Tugger! You're kicking me!" Whined the kit, who had been deaf to his brother's mewling but obnoxiously aware of his restless dreaming. Had he known it had been a bad dream, he would've been nicer about it, but it's not like Tugger would've told him anyway. He was glad it was only a dream, but he found himself wanting to nestle his tiny face into the back of his brother's neck. He felt safe close to him. If the kitten could have seen into the future the nightmares he would suffer, these would have been nothing more than silly dreams to him. Never had he believed they would become so vivid...

—

Not in a jungle, nor the junkyard. Some place made of cold stones that he couldn't make out. It was so dark that he couldn't see his paw in front of his face. The walls he used as a means of navigation were so cold that they burned when he touched them. It didn't matter where he was, but he wanted to find _someone_. Anyone.

 _I have to be in the Underground_. Thought the Maine Coon, certain he'd simply wandered down to the subways without remembering. It was easy to find his way out of there. "Tugger." A voice was there with him. Not just any voice; his brother's. It echoed a hundred times through the tunnel until Tugger at last turned in the right direction to see him at the end of the narrow path. He felt light-headed from relief.

"Bro, thank God!" He exclaimed. "Where the hell are we?"

"I thought you'd recognize the place our father died when you saw it."

At that, Tugger felt every bone in his body turn to ice as he shuddered. Not only at his brother's words, but how coldly he'd said it. "W—What... Bro... what are you—"

"I can't bring a monster like you home with me." And now the pieces of his frozen bones shattered. Tugger's expression and character broke in that instant. He was left shocked, appalled, unable to reply before Munkustrap could say, "I watched you kill Macavity. You tried to kill Raithen. You've been a killer since the day you were born. Like them."

All words escaped the Maine Coon, who could truly sink into the depths of the ocean with everything he'd heard his dear brother say. His best friend. A sentence was lodged in his throat, but Tugger felt himself choke on them. "Wha... No..." He'd never heard himself so broken before. "I... Macavity killed our father. I was angry." He was shaking all over.

"Dad wouldn't have wanted that even then! Not even after he's dead you can't stop ignoring him."

"No!" Tugger shook his head. "I didn't..." His eyes watered. "...I didn't want him to hurt you." Munkustrap only glared at him. If looks alone could kill... As much as he annoyed him in their lives, Tugger had _never_ seen such reproach in his eyes. It was when his brother turned to walk away that every ounce of composure in him broke and he spilt, "Brother, wait! Don't leave!"

"I can't have you near my kittens. How do I know you won't hurt them too?"

The very idea itself horrified the maned tom, almost rendering him speechless. "No... You know I'd never—" His lip quivered and at once Tugger felt like he couldn't breathe. "Munkustrap. Please, don't leave me here! You're all I have!"

"We're not brothers. Dad was right about you... You're just another disappointment."

 _"Munkustrap!"_ He pleaded more desperately than ever before in his life. There was no reply but the soft sound of retreating footsteps. He hurried to follow but couldn't keep up with his brother. When it became dark again, he recognized the voice of the second tom to approach him down there. One whose company was disfavored by any cat in the United Kingdom. Not even Hell wanted him; his soul was left wandering in the endless planes of oblivion, haunting those he desired.

 _"We have so much in common, I said. Do you believe me now? You can join me you know. It gets so lonely down here—"_

"No!" Heart pounding, he jerked awake, finding himself in the cold morning light wrapped underneath a blanket he did not remember having. He was shivering all over both from the dream and his thawing body. Tugger turned his head around in search of his brother, who was nowhere to be found.

"Tugger," he turned and saw Bombalurina there beside him, her face creased with concern, "it's okay." She ran her paw down his arm. "You were dreaming. It was only a dream." Tugger still looked so lost. _He was_ not _underground... Munkustrap still loved him..._ _Macavity is gone. A dream, like she said._ "Do you want to talk about it?" Although it was the last thing he wanted, his body was still so fatigued and heavy. His eyes wanted nothing more but to close again. The Maine Coon responded by forcing himself to roll over into a warmer, more snug position.

He closed his eyes and hoped he wouldn't dream this time.


	37. Murderer

**Rum Tum Tugger**

The kitten had had troubled dreams again. He woke up with a full-body twitch and his heart in his stomach. It was a dream where neither his father nor brother could hear him, no matter how much he cried and mewled for them. As soon as he rolled over, he saw his father lying not too far away. His brother was still sleeping closely next to him. The little one knew where it had come from; neither of them had paid him much attention the last few weeks... they were busy doing 'lessons' or whatever Munkustrap had called them.

They began almost out of nowhere, and took up all of their time, but they'd be over soon, the kit believed. Then they'd start spending time with him again, and everything would go back to normal!

Though on one particular day, when the six-year-old was feeling bored of his toys, Rum Tum Tugger trotted over to the very spot he was told _not_ to go. The last time he did that, he was told to go read some of his books, but reading gave him a headache.

He could hear his brother and father.

"Jellicle Cats are black and white. Jellicle Cats are rather small. Jellicle Cats are merry and bright—"

"Project, Munkustrap. Speak loudly and clearly."

 _"Jellicle Cats are black and_ _—"_

"Project, not shout." Old Deuteronomy corrected. "Make sure to enunciate."

The eleven-year-old tom's eyes glazed over with frustration and he sighed. "Jel-li-cle Cats. Are black. And white."

Tugger didn't understand the lessons at all. To him, they were just repeating the same words over and over all day long. How boring. He pulled on his father's tail. "Dad." The large tom didn't hear him. _"Daaaaaaadddd."_ He pulled repeatedly, not making much effort. Old Deuteronomy held his paw up to hush Munkustrap and knelt down.

"Yes, sweet boy?"

"Can Munkustrap come play now?"

"Not until he gets this poem right."

"But how long is that gonna take?" He moaned dramatically. "I'm bored!"

"Dad," Munkustrap implored, "can we just take a little break?" Old Deuteronomy looked surprised at him; the kit never asked to stop, not even when he was tired. Tugger saw the look of surrender in his eyes and perked up.

"I suppose for just an hour—" Before he could even finish, Munkustrap zipped past him faster than either his father and brother had ever seen. Tugger giddily followed behind and they hurried over to the area in which they turned into their make believe jungle or rainforest or whatever struck them that day. He might have other kits he could go to, should they even _want_ to entertain the younger tom, but his big brother was the best playmate! Why _would_ he want to go to anyone else? The hour unfortunately went by all too quickly and they heard their father's voice from outside the den. "All right, boys. Where are you?" Munkustrap held up a finger to his lips, showing little Tugger he had an idea.

Wiggling his bottom, the Maine Coon got into a stalking position, which was still clumsy at the time, and waited with his more refined brother to pounce. Once Old Deuteronomy was close enough, unassuming, Munkustrap yelled, "Get Dad!" And before he could react, both kits bounced atop the Norwegian Forest cat, Munkustrap nearly heavy enough to knock him over.

With one kit in each arm, Old Deuteronomy chuckled out, "My goodness! Little hunters." Munkustrap pulled away while Tugger was still chomping at his ear, continuing his chimerical play.

"Tugger was being a leopard, so _you're_ the gazelle!"

"A gazelle?" Munkustrap nodded. "So what are you?"

"I'm a cheetah!" He beamed. Both noticed Tugger still had not stopped gumming his father's ear, adding vicious growls for effect.

"I need that to hear." Old Deuteronomy grinned.

Tugger let go. "But I need you to feed my pride!"

"Leopards don't have prides. Lions do."

"Well... I'm a lion then!" He swished his tail and nearly went back to pretend skewering, but Old Deuteronomy plucked his little son off his shoulder and set him down.

"Your brother and I have to go back to his rehearsal now."

"But we were playing..." Whined the kit. How was it that these two brothers like night and day?

"Maybe if Munkustrap gets this proper quickly, you'll have more time this evening." At that, Munkustrap looked nervous, Tugger hopeful, his tail swaying.

"Really?"

"We'll see. Just be a good boy and don't interrupt." Tugger flattened his ears, but obliged. He entertained himself for the rest of the evening, but it was dark when they finally finished and Munkustrap was tired. Rum Tum Tugger, however, hopped right onto his fatigued brother. "What are we gonna play now?"

"Um..." He yawned, "What do you _want_ to play?"

"Whatever _you_ want!" He swished his tail, excited to finally have his attention. The tired tom occupied his little brother for only fifteen minutes before he found himself patting down a spot in their bed and slumping over asleep. Tugger had been so caught up in the little fantasy that he almost didn't realize he'd been playing by himself for ten minutes. When he saw Munkustrap snoozing, he didn't try to wake him. He rolled over next to him, nuzzled his chin with a purr, and then fell asleep too.

—

"Be a good boy and find something to do. We'll be busy most of the day." Old Deuteronomy told the Maine Coon.

"But there's nothing _left_ here to do! Can I go climbing?"

"Not without someone to watch you."

"I'm a big cat! I can watch myself! I'll claw and hiss at anything that tries to touch me!" He threw in his vicious kitten hiss, fur standing high. Old Deuteronomy wasn't convinced. He looked over almost pleadingly to Munkustrap.

"Please, Tugger?" The silver kit sounded somewhat forced when he begged him. "I'll do _really_ well today and finish early!"

"You said that _yesterday._ " The kitten laid his ears back.

"Tugger." Old Deuteronomy folded his arms. "It isn't nice to put guilt on your brother like that." The Maine Coon scowled at him and he said, "If you really _are_ a big cat, then you'll be able to handle being by yourself for a little while... as long as you don't leave the gates!" He threw in, _knowing_ the kit just might use his words against him. He was 'clever' like that. "What do you say?"

Tugger frowned. "Mhm." It came out in a growl. The Maine Coon wandered around as kittens did—he sniffed out some little interesting discoveries like roaches or crickets that had wandered into the lot and chased them for a bit, but found they weren't nearly as fun as the mice or rats out in the alleyways. He went up to some of the other kits. They were a little older than him, but no older than Munkustrap. Plato was often his playmate, but it was short-lived since he often got pulled aside by Admetus and Alonzo, all three forgetting about the much younger kitten.

"What does Toothy Tugger want?" Asked Alonzo. "We're busy."

"Why are _all_ big cats busy?" He grimaced, annoyed. "Even my brother's no fun anymore!"

"Jennyanydots told me that Munkustrap's gonna be the leader someday!" Said the Angora, excited for his friend. Tugger, however, only sneered.

"I know. But who cares? Dad's the leader _now!_ Munkustrap doesn't have to do anything yet!"

"Your dad says he has to train him." Plato added. The toms had been pushing together bits and boxes to make a little fort; something Munkustrap would _much_ rather be doing right now. "Your brother's the heir, which means you're next in line after him."

"No." Alonzo said knowingly, "Munkustrap's kittens are after him. Then _their_ kittens!" Tugger had no idea what they were even talking about. He was sure if it didn't make sense to him now, it _never_ would. But one day he realized what they'd meant. Munkustrap was heir apparent – the throne was _his_ once their father was gone. Period. No one else's. Rum Tum Tugger was heir presumptive. Should anything happen to Munkustrap _before_ he could have any kittens of his own was the only way the Maine Coon would ever inherit the tribe. Thank God; leadership was _far_ too much work. Anything that required long-term thinking was _far_ from his forte. His life of free-living would be gone, and Tugger couldn't have that.

But that revelation wouldn't come for years. He was just a frustrated kitten that wanted his playful father and brother back. What had changed so suddenly? Had something happened to their father that made him want to take up all of Munkustrap's time? The kitten couldn't even think of a reason so complex. He could only assume Munkustrap was now more important to their father than he was... and it wasn't fair! He didn't ask to be born second!

When they came home one evening, the brooding kitten was sulking alone atop a box, batting his hefty tail rhythmically. Their day had gone surprisingly well, putting them in a good mood. It only infuriated the kitten more.

Munkustrap ran over to him, smiling. "Hey, Tugger!" The grey tom looked surprised. He thought Tugger would be _happy_ to see them done early. He put his paws up on the box's ledge so he could pull himself to eye-level. "Dad and I are finished; do you want to do something?" Normally the kit would be absolutely jubilant and accept the offer, but he'd been too busy thinking of how little he meant to them now. "What's wrong? Are you okay?" Munkustrap went to reach his paw to his and Rum Tum Tugger swiped at him with his claws, hissing.

Munkustrap pulled back. That hadn't been playful at all! Old Deuteronomy creased his brow in both surprise and fury. "Tugger!" He exclaimed. "You don't swipe at your brother!"

"He didn't hurt me–"

"Apologize." Ordered their father, his voice a spectral echo. Tugger did no such thing. He crawled inside the box and hid in the far back. When it was dark, he still didn't leave his spot. He felt somebody watching him and looked to see a pair of sorrowful blue eyes.

"Tugger?" Munkustrap would crawl inside next to him if he could, but he couldn't fit. "You gonna come to bed?" Tugger averted his eyes once again, clearly not wanting to talk. It boggled the Egyptian Mau before him. "Are you mad at me?" He asked, making the Maine Coon realize just how much his actions had made his brother's heart hurt. Despite being only weeks away now from turning seven, the kitten knew how it felt. "I'll leave if you want me to." Before Munkustrap had finished, the kitten crept out and pressed his face into his brother's chest. Not quite a hug, but warrenting one from the older. It made the tabby feel slightly better.

"I love you." Munkustrap whispered before planting a soft kiss to his head. Tugger didn't have any kind words to say. He stubbornly forced himself to stay mad, even as they crawled into bed. He rolled around in a fitful state, only trying to get to sleep. It was that night his brother began to stir and whimper in pain. The kit poked his head up to see his brother's face contorting in pain.

"Munkus, what's wrong?" He asked, forgetting he was supposed to be mad at him. He didn't answer. Instead, his eyes fluttered open and he began to breathe faster than Tugger had ever heard him. Tears started to brink in his eyes, but Munkustrap started rasping and convulsing. The kit went into full panic. _Was he dying?_ "What's wrong?" He shouted, shaking him by his shoulder. "PAPA!" He shrieked as loud as his little lungs could. He didn't want his brother to die. "MUNKUSTRAP'S CHOKING! _PAPA!"_

Old Deuteronomy had already been charging over. He picked up Munkustrap; he was _breathing_ fine. Just too quickly. "He's fine." He reassured Tugger. He cradled Munkustrap. "My boy. Son, it's okay." He stroked the Mau's face. Tugger wiped his eyes... he didn't even notice he'd been crying. "Shhh..." Old Deuteronomy took another minute or so, then Munkustrap seemed to settle.

"Da...Dad..." The tabby sighed out, coming out of his trance.

"You're fine. You just had a nightmare." The tom presumed, but Munkustrap shook his head and sat up.

"No! It wasn't that. I kept thinking about..." He looked like he didn't _want_ to say what. "I don't know what happened to me. I—" Just to hear him speaking comforted Tugger... how could he have been so mad at him like that? Was it _his_ fault that happened? The kitten jumped into his lap and left him stunned when he folded his arms around him in a hug.

"I'm sorry!" He cried into his chest. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

Now Munkustrap was just confused. "Why?"

"Both you boys need some sleep." Said their father. "It's all right now. Tugger, your brother's fine." He rubbed the Maine Coon's shoulder. The rest of the night, however, Rum Tum Tugger was plastered to Munkustrap the rest of the night... and neither minded one bit.

—

Tugger opened his eyes again to the same cold morning, trapped in an even colder body. He still had the blanket over his body along with a paw running up and down his arm. He identified the scent. Bombalurina was still there. _Why?_ Why wouldn't everybody just leave? "You awake?" She asked in a soft voice. He didn't answer. He didn't look at her. He didn't even nudge her paw away even though he wanted to. "You're feeling a bit warmer... and your color's back. That's good." Bombalurina tried to smile, but she couldn't, not while Tugger couldn't. "I'm glad you're okay... I'm glad we found you before it got worse." The most of a response she was going to get was a blink. "It's going to be over soon... Your brother's going to take care of the bastards, and then he's going to get better... those kittens are going to grow up happy and loved..." She was reading every single line of a script she'd rehearsed. It didn't feel authentic. "And you're gonna do what you do best... be rockstar, working your magic on stage, with all the ladies swooning over you."

Was that it? Was that all he was... even to _her?_ She only knew a fraction of him... everyone did... even him.

"Am I a murderer?" Rum Tum Tugger asked, startling Bombalurina. Had she heard him right? "Cats look at me different ever since we brought home my dad... after he was..." She knew what. He swallowed. "They talk about me like I can't hear them... 'he's the one that killed the hidden paw.'" He shivered. Bombalurina tried to put the blanket snug around him, but he shrugged her off. "Then they come up to me like it's all nothing. Like there aren't any chains around me that keep trapped in that night... They're the chains my brother has but he has them so much worse than I do... he thinks he couldn't protect him... and I _wanted_ to protect him, both of them... it's like..." He took a breath. "I wasn't trying to be a hero. I wasn't even thinking of anything else. I just wanted him _dead._ He took my father away." His eyes went bloodshot and Bombalurina had only been gaping at him the whole time.

The entire ordeal left her breathless. She took the window of silence to quickly say, "You're not a murderer, Tugger!" It fell on deaf ears. "You loved your father and Macavity had it coming!" Tugger shut his eyes and bit his lip... he'd expected to hear that. It only made it hurt so much more. "Tugger, it doesn't matter anymore... Macavity's gone because of you."

"...So is my father." He rasped, giving her no time to answer. "Maybe if I'd been faster he'd still be here... but my father wouldn't have wanted that. Macavity was his son... he would've watched his _youngest_ son murder his oldest... He wouldn't be able to look at me and say he loved me ever again. But he'd still be here. I'd be able to talk to him every day... to see him in the morning," he felt a tear... but ignored it and let it fall, "tell him I'm glad he's here, and then take him to go see Munkustrap and his kittens... I would've promised him I'd stop causing trouble... That he wouldn't end up losing _another_ son... This entire time, I never knew he was so afraid of what I was out doing because he'd already lost his first boy. Not that it mattered." He snorted a somewhat scornful laugh. "Munkustrap and I were his only boys..." He wiped both his eyes. "And now it's just us... It wasn't supposed to be this way."

Bombalurina had been sobbing into her paw, unbeknownst to Tugger. She took a deep breath when she realized he was done speaking, and threw herself to him, saying the first thing that came to mind. "I love you, Tugger." The Maine Coon's fur stood up, completely flustered. "Not like anybody else... Your father loved you. Your brother loves you. _I_ love you! It doesn't matter what you did... when all of this is over, I promise I'll make it better." She wept into his shoulder and Tugger craned his neck to see her.

"Bomba..." He croaked. This _wasn't_ what he'd expected. When she pulled her head up and he saw her heartbroken face, it only made it worse. "I didn't..." What the hell was he supposed to say? This wasn't the time! "I didn't... want that..." They were _both_ embarrassed now. Why had either said anything? Bombalurina just couldn't understand? Did their years of friendship and... _everything else_ mean nothing after all? Why couldn't he see that he meant so much to her? These feelings had been brewing for so long and yet...

She pulled away, escaping out of the den that Tugger was still too weak to leave.


	38. Command

**Mungojerrie**

The tom had been counting the weeks since Axel died. Over thirty-six. The twins' eighteenth birthdays came and went and neither said a word. It was only a matter of time before the bald freak figured them out. It's not like they could write down any plans or find time to privately congregate—eyes were on them at all times. Rumpleteazer swore she could feel Raithen watching them through a telescope when he went away.

They might as well be street rats again; their heists were once again only a means of survival. They took no joy in robbing other tribes or 'teaching them lessons' by roughing up one of their members, but it meant waking up to see another morning. Neither Bengal had forgotten just how quickly things could fall apart, and so they walked a fine, thin line to avoid any mistakes again.

"Mate." Mungojerrie's ears flattened every time he heard that word. "Raithen wants you in his quarters immediately." The orange-and-black tom trotted down the steps and sat in his usual seat in front of Ixion. He didn't even bother announcing he was there anymore or asking what he wanted. He got his orders, he did them. No need for chit-chat.

"I have something a little different for you." Raithen said as he cleaned off some of of his new jewels. "Listen carefully. My eyes over in Kensington told me a _former employee_ we'll call him has taken up residence in Holland Park's tribe. I want you to bring him here so I can have a word with him."

"Is that so?" Droned the teenager.

"Yes, though if you tell him you're bringing him to _me_ , I don't think he'll comply so easily. We had a little falling out, if you will." Mungojerrie only cocked a brow at that. "He'll require a some persuasion."

"Tuh! If you want persuasion, you should've asked my sister."

"I was getting there, lad. I want you to bring _your sister_ and convince this gent meet me for a chance to reconcile." Mungojerrie snorted. "What? What's funny?"

"Sorry, _mate_ , just remembered a joke." The teen said, still smirking.

—

"I had a dream I stabbed the old wanker in the eye." Rumpleteazer told her brother. "It was lovely." He wasn't listening; he was scanning the park among the human visitors to try and find just where and _how_ a tribe could have a living space nearby.

Mungojerrie sneered. "God. This place is too happy."

"You wouldn't be saying that if _we_ were happy."

"Uh huh."

"Are you sure he meant the actual park and not the _street?_ "

"Who cares? The longer it takes us to figure this out, the longer we get to be out of there." He'd made his point. Still, with Raithen's 'eyes' being everywhere, neither wanted to risk even looking like they were going to make a run, so they went down up and down nearly every damned street in the district named Holland Park. "These houses remind me of our old one."

"Mhm. Doesn't a David Beckham live here?"

"Huh?"

"Some bloke on the telly. He's married to a dancer! I think her name is Linda—"

"Wrong David Beckham, Teazer."

"Huh... which one am I thinking of, then?" The Bengal shrugged and followed her brother. Soon the scent of feral felines struck them. They were close. "What did Raithen say he looked like again?"

"He said look for a German Rex with a tortoiseshell coat."

"That fuzzy bloke right there?" Indeed, the queen had found their target. "All right, here goes nothing."

"Teazer, wait!" She knew better than to just strut into a tribe's territory, even _on_ a job!

"What? We don't have to be sneaky. We're inviting a _guest_ to dinner." She swished her tail and strided on over, playing the game. Mungojerrie thought to himself, _Dinner, then a swim in the River Thames_.

With the unkempt, yet still beautiful Bengal working her magic, the target was theirs in no time. It took a good buttering up to convince him Raithen had nothing but warm intentions... Teazer could not stand this. It killed her. One side of her wanted to instead just warn him to stay away from Hammersmith and face the consequences herself... the other made herself truly _believe_ she had no idea what Raithen really wanted to do with him.

Yes, she was just a silly little ditz. That was a better way to think of it. It's what got her through the day.

The twins went to bed that night knowing they'd done their job at the very least. Getting through the night was more difficult than getting through the day. Neither could fall asleep—one never knew if they'd get to wake up the morning after.

Someone started pounding on their door. Jerrie started awake before Teazer did, but he was ready to act. When he opened the door, it was Mosstail. Mungojerrie glowered at the mere sight of him. "Yes?" The mute tom pointed to the yawning queen sitting up in bed. "What?" Mosstail simply lowered his paw and waited. "What is it? Do I have to follow you?"

"I think he wants me, Jer."

"No." Jerrie said at once. "Take me to Raithen." Mosstail blocked the doorway and shook his head. The Russian Blue had learned well to fear the Bengal, but this time he was following orders. "What does he want?"

"He can't talk, Jerrie." Teazer stumbled out of bed and walked to the doorway. "I'll go. Clearly it's important if they want my help." She gave him a discreet wink; obviously they just needed some sweet-talk... as if Raithen's was worn out by now. Unfortunate they shared such a talent.

Jerrie did not like this, but what did it matter? "Be quick about it." And so Mosstail walked Teazer down the dark hallway, leaving Jerrie to pace and rock alone in the room. He couldn't stand his sister not being there, and the longer it took, the more it ached. He could hear muffled laughter and music downstairs that brought _some_ comfort, but it didn't last long. When things became quiet, the Bengal crept out of the bedroom. He simply followed his sister's scent. She wasn't in lounging room. He maintained calmness for his own sake and continued to follow until he ended up in Raithen's parlor, where he saw her asleep on the couch with the stranger curling up next to her.

Mungojerrie turned around and walked along the hallway. The tom veered sideways and had to hold himself up by the wall. He walked in a daze, the urge to vomit cracking in his chest.

* * *

 **Munkustrap**

Munkustrap's paw went towards Sophitia's tiny cheek, caressing her as she napped. She was piled over and between her two brothers. They'd had a long and restless night and needed their sleep, yet Munkustrap just wanted to pick each one up and hold them. Such small little darlings that had no idea what importance they held in this world. Demeter opened the flap of their box and stepped inside. "Are you sure about this?"

"No. That's why I better go before I change my mind." At that, Demeter sighed sorrowfully, but Munkustrap gave her a kiss. "I'm not afraid of him." He said assuredly. Demeter knew _that_ , but it's because Raithen also wasn't afraid that _she_ _was_. The calico nuzzled his neck, coming close to lean against his chest so he could cradle her.

Demeter's ears pricked up and she said, "You've a kind heart. Don't let him take it from you." She said as if reciting it by memory. The words were etched into the silver tom's mind and he held her closer. Before departing, he reminded the elders to watch after Tugger and the lot and he squeezed under the gate. The wetness in the air helped amplify the scent of the tom, so sniffing out Raithen proved to be easy.

It was what was about to occur that wouldn't be.

"Out!" Munkustrap commanded as if they'd take him as an authority figure. "I know you're there." He stood before a small hole in the corner of an old building. "I can wait all day if you'd like, I'm a patient tom."

Raithen poked his head out, ugly face turned even more hideous as it squeezed through the cement walls. "Indeed, you are." Out came one paw, then the other until his whole body came slithering close. "Can't say the same for your cantankerous brother!"

"I agree, my brother acted on impulse, but he had every right to be angry." Munkustrap noticed his lackies coming out of hiding as well, so sick of _all_ of their faces. But really, it was Nebula, with his gargantuan stature and crazed stare, that he wanted to see the least—and _that_ was saying something! He let his lip curl up into a snarl upon sight.

"Nebula, you'll be a good lad, right?" Raithen turned back to him and the Savannah sat down. "He's had a talking to since the incident... your brother really held his own against him!" Nebula noticeably twitched at that comment.

Munkustrap no longer cared about idle chat... he didn't care about politeness anymore. He shouldn't have _ever_. "I want you out of my territory. I will not fight you for it. We've been here far too long to even _consider_ giving it away."

"A little constructive criticism, mate." Raithen interrupted, holding up his paw. Was this for real or did he just want to grind the Mau's gears, or both? "You claim to be a leader, right? So enough of this 'I want, I want' tactic. You're supposed to give commands, not ask for your way." Now the tabby's nerves had been struck on a petty level; _that's_ what they've come to!

He wasn't taking him seriously when he was goddamn serious! "You _will_ leave. You will turn around and walk all the way back to Hammersmith. Farther if I see fit!"

"Better!" He applauded; he felt a twinge of glee when he saw Munkustrap grinding his teeth together.

"There's nothing to be laughing about. You came into my tribe uninvited, made threats to my mate, my brother, my tribe, and my _kittens._ You can try all you want to break me all you want, but this is _my_ home!"

Raithen pursed his thin lips and glanced around at his comrades. He noticed the tom that had abused Munkustrap's mercy looking at the ground. "What are you hiding your face for? Too ashamed? It was a matter of loyalty." He looked back at Munkustrap. _"Loyalty._ Your father believed in that. He did indeed. It was all he talked about, the one thing we agreed was important in a council. That's how I buttered him up and got a position as an advisor. A few months in, he notices some cats are being given the wrong instructions for their jobs... sometimes we run short on food because the cats I sent turn out to be incompetent. Sometimes they never come back from a job. I only desire the best in a tribe, and so the best are who _survive._ Your father couldn't see that, he was too kind." With every word he said, the silver tom felt weaker and weaker, and more ill. "Kindness gets you killed, mate. I told him the way he runs things will get his tribe wiped out. When he sent me away, I told him my point would be proven... and I've waited long and hard to see this day. _You're_ living proof of his failure."

Munkustrap took a moment before answering, voice slowly becoming a shout. "My father is _dead_. Killed by his _own_ son. What more humiliation in his name could you possibly want?"

He sighed, "I've heard the term 'like father, like son' before. _My_ father said so, and he was right! I told him so before I pushed him in front of the bus that killed him."

"You're wrong about his failure... you've had cats abandon and betray you... the Jellicles have stood strong against threats since Mercutio. Because of my father, _my_ people believe in real devotion. Not _your_ twisted... _philosophy!"_ He used the best word that came to him that moment. "This ends now." Raithen quirked his brow bone. "You leave here alive and we forget each other's faces."

"The alternative?"

Munkustrap unsheathed his claws. "Or I kill you myself." As reflex, Nebula furled up and hissed, causing Raithen to chuckle.

 _"You?"_ Munkustrap growled loudly. That was the only answer he needed. "How's this? If you can get past _Nebula_ , I just might take your threat seriously." Was he serious...? Munkustrap looked up at the towering, spotted tom. "You look like a lad who stays fit. I'm sure the odds are even." That statement itself was a contradiction!

"Raithen, don't make this difficult."

"Either this or we leave with one of your young queens." That was no deal. Munkustrap made that clear already. He _had_ come expecting a fight, after all. "Boy you're stubborn." He paused for a moment, not nearly enough time for Munkustrap to be ready when he heard, "Nebula, ki—" A shocked scream interrupted his order when he was bit in the shoulder by the disheveled, former-mute.

Munkustrap had no time to react, but he heard the familiar voice shouting, "RUN! GO!" A head start!

Nebula unhinged his jaws and threw the cat three feet down the alley where he laid slack. Raithen shook all over, seeing that the Mau had taken off... perhaps this was an opportunity. "Nebula, no!" He stopped him from pursuing. "You there," he said to Mosstail, "give him a good chase, keep him busy, and _far_ away from the tribe. Nebula, I've got a job for you."


	39. Leopard

**Old Deuteronomy**

"What's this nonsense about an outsider wandering through the gates? Why was no one on watch?"

"I'm sorry, but this bloke said he was starving, just needed some food." Old Deuteronomy struck his subordinate a look. "You said we had plenty to spare!"

"Yes, I did..." He looked over at their 'guest:' a thinning, bald tom with skin so tight he could see the protrusions of his joints. He meekly looked up at the lofty tom. Old Deuteronomy's face fell. It was the most pitiful sight he'd ever seen, and he'd lived a _long_ time. "You must be cold." He found himself saying.

"I manage." Replied the stranger. "Though I will say, your lush coat's making me jealous. Does it keep you warm?"

"Yes, but it's a terror to comb."

The tom grinned slightly, his already-thin lips vanishing and baring rows of jagged teeth. "All I need is a meal for the road. I don't intend to stay long."

"Where are you headed?"

"Don't know. Strays tend to strut about hoping _some_ human will want to take them in. Guess I'm not fluffy enough." He tittered cynically. Old Deuteronomy couldn't help himself then. He took another good look at him and sighed. "We'll get you a meal, and a blanket for the night."

The tom was then shown where he would be staying, but just hours after everyone went to sleep, it was clear he wasn't well enough to leave in the morning. When Old Deuteronomy found him shivering and feverish, he had Jellylorum examine him. "It's just a chill, he'll be fine."

"Did you see how frail he is?" He whispered.

"Yes?"

"I'm worried about sending him off right away... I think he needs a place to stay until he's got some strength back."

"Are you kidding? He shows up in _our_ territory and tries to steal _our_ food and you're letting him stay?"

"Temporarily." Old Deuteronomy told the tabby, "I don't want to be the tom that sends a starving cat elsewhere to die. He stays until he's healthy again."

"We're barely scavenging enough food for _ourselves_ , we can't add some stranger to the lot just because he's a little thin."

" _I_ can and _I_ will." Old Deuteronomy spoke as if he were giving her an order. "He stays."

Jellylorum turned to glance from her side so that he couldn't see her annoyance, "Yes, Sir."

—

"I was never fond of the city, to tell you the truth. I'm more of a country bloke."

"Where are you from?"

"Yorkshire."

 _"Yorkshire_ _?_ I _thought_ your accent sounded a little northern."

"I've lost most of it." The cat called Raithen hopped onto the dumpster, Old Deuteronomy waited below to fill their boxes with food. "Does this shop _always_ toss perfectly good cans of food?"

"Yes. Even for the _slightest_ dent! Wasteful for them, practical for us."

"Smart!" Raithen was far more limber, and his dainty paws were perfect for picking the lid open and rummaging through the waste.

"It makes winter easier when the animals all go south or in hiding. Plus, none of us like hunting in the cold." Old Deuteronomy explained. "What brought you all the way to London?"

"Thought perhaps a change of environment would shift my luck. The city's not _all_ bad; there's theater, history, culture... Have you ever been up north?"

"No. My place is here, with my tribe."

"You've never traveled _anywhere_?"

"No. My father made the tribe my top priority, so the thought never crossed my mind, not even when I was young." As Raithen began to load the box, Old Deuteronomy asked, "Were you ever part of a tribe up in Yorkshire?"

"My father was... or maybe it was my father's father. _One_ of them split from the rest, and that's why I'm a wanderer... does anybody leave your clan?"

"If one asks to, then yes. If a cat were to just walk away without a word with us, though, that's desertion."

Raithen gave him a knowing look. "Has there ever been desertion before?"

"Of course. Every clan has deserters." Old Deuteronomy pushed the box closer; he wanted to be done.

The cat curiously swished his tail. "Anyone close?"

Old Deuteronomy sighed and replied in an uneven tone, "Come on, the garbage truck's about to arrive."

Rathen finished loading and they were both heading back, Raithen somberly said, "I'm sorry for prying. I hope I haven't struck a nerve."

 _The way he speaks sounds rehearsed._ Thought Old Deuteronomy. He would know; his father had taught him such eloquence and proper etiquette with elders. Perhaps Raithen was the same way. "Ever since I became leader, I've found myself losing my charm. You'll have to forgive me."

"Why Sir, you are _uniformly_ charming!"

Old Deuteronomy then humored him with a half-smile. He was beyond flattery of any form, but he could subtly appreciate the gesture, be it false or not. Of course, nothing felt false about Raithen, not to the Jellicle Leader, nor anyone else. His kindness had been unfailing, and his presence seemed to change a great deal. His council enjoyed his company, as the Sphynx was always had an amusing story to tell or interesting gossip about the humans living nearby. Old Deuteronomy did like it when Raithen asked him about the Jellicle's history, because it was the one thing he would proudly share with _anyone_ who asked.

He was always trying to bond with the old tom, which was endearing to the other cats, but sometimes off-putting and distracting to Old Deuteronomy, who busied himself with his schedules. When he _did_ have some time, he would invite him to have a cup of tea, which Raithen was very particular about, and introduced him to his mate at the time. He was very cordial with the bloke, but Old Deuteronomy found something off about him every time they spoke, which he would instantly dismiss as his territorial instinct. When other new cats arrived before, Old Deuteronomy had never felt as uneasy as he did now... But because Raithen was smart and sensible, and proved he'd make a formidable advisor, he ignored it.

* * *

 **Rum Tum Tugger**

"Rum Tum Tugger!" Old Deuteronomy's voice bellowed from beneath the tall tree. Munkustrap stood behind him.

"I can almost see Big Ben!" He called back giddily, intentionally ignoring his tone.

"How many times have I told you not to climb when I'm not with you?"

"But leopards climb trees by themselves!" The kitten hopped down from branch to branch until Old Deuteronomy took him by the scruff of his neck and set him down. The tom knelt down to his son's level.

"You are two times too reckless, my boy. I want you to promise me _no more climbing._ " Tugger sat silently, swishing his tail. "Hm?" He was waiting for an answer.

"You said I'm not supposed to tell lies." He replied. It made his father's ears go back—the powder keg of a kitten was too clever by half.

Old Deuteronomy walked ahead of his two sons and Munkustrap said to his little brother, "You'd better respect your elders, Tugger. The longer you don't listen, the longer the punishment, and I know you don't want to be reading Jellicle history all winter so that you're frozen stiff by spring!"

Tugger didn't find that funny at all. "I hate reading!" He said with passion. "It hurts my head!"

"It wouldn't if you'd study more consistently." Old Deuteronomy said gruffly. It didn't matter what the kitten said, eventually they were _both_ sent to work on their lessons; Munkustrap out of obligation, Tugger as a form of punishment.

Normally the kit wasn't involved in any of his family's boring recitals or lectures and was left to his own devices; he liked hunting when no one else was around to tell him how to do it. Tugger learned better using his own ways and not the 'known' ways—his father could never accept that. Why should it matter how a cat hunts for their food? If the result is the same, did the process matter?

Tugger couldn't run as fast as Munkustrap, nor could he remember things as well, and was always told he didn't have his brother's 'grace' when he sang and danced... but he was a better climber, and his father couldn't even let him enjoy _that_. The kitten still liked to think of what wild cats everyone in his tribe would be. His father told him, even into his adult years, that Tugger was the real lion of the family; proud and audacious, with a mane that made all the other toms jealous. But if the spots on his chest and paws didn't make it clear, there was very much leopard in him. Much like the spotted felines, the trees were Tugger's second home.

Sometimes they felt more like home than the junkyard. To a kitten, being atop a tree felt like being above the entire world.

The only cat more terrified than Old Deuteronomy that Tugger would slip off a branch and kill himself was Munkustrap. The Maine Coon would tell him he wouldn't, but he never believed him. Once Munkustrap made him promise he wouldn't climb without him there to watch. He had managed to keep that promise for a day or two, but grew particularly restless and snuck away when he was asleep.

It was Jellylorum that caught Tugger and brought him back.

Old Deuteronomy demanded he recite hours worth of Jellicle proverbs by memory, which was utterly miserable for the kit. The morning after he completed the dreadful task, Tugger was nowhere to be found. The older cats finally found him fast asleep in the upper branches of the park's tallest tree. As angry as he was, his father, for the first time, did not punish him. To Tugger's surprise, he could not help but laugh. "I should've known," he told Tugger when they fetched him down, "you're not a regular cat; you _are_ a leopard. So be it. If you must climb, then climb."

It made Rum Tum Tugger light up like a Christmas tree. Not once could the tom have _ever_ predicted that one of the few things he enjoyed most, his father would _approve_ of! His own obstinance ended up being better for both of them in the long run... but a kitten couldn't fathom that—all he knew was it meant he'd get to climb! If Tugger hadn't such dreadful foresight, perhaps he and his father would've had more time to get to know each other... and maybe they'd _both_ know more about themselves. That's what the Maine Coon would sometimes think about after he died.

How he could've been a better son, even _if_ they made it clear they loved each other at the very end. The fact that he held his dead father's head in his paw, eyes still looking back into his. What did he think of him in his last moments? Was he proud...? Did he trust him to go on with the rest of his life without a father's guidance? He didn't even get a _Goodbye_ in... or an _I love you._

Tugger had a lot of time to think about this as he lied cold in the blanket, only _just_ beginning to feel his muscles again. He could flex his fingers and claws, and move his toes, but that was about it... all he felt like trying, anyway. He could probably get up to show everyone he was okay if he wanted to... but he didn't. He was so sick of attention he _didn't_ want, surprising as that may be. It was pity that they gave him, nothing else anymore. Even Bombalurina and her 'declaration,' it was bollocks. She loved him the way the other queens did, but she overdid it with that speech of hers. The one queen he trusted with his feelings only felt sorry for him too.

He forced his sore legs to stand himself up, a little wobbly as he walked to the edge of the junkyard fence... gazing outward. Normally nothing would stop him from jumping it and going off to be on his own, sing at some club and make ladies swoon, go about like _nothing_ was wrong.

Except _everything_ was wrong...

He could remember his father sobbing in his arms... he would never forget that moment. In fact, he thought about it every day since it happened.

 _I never meant to cause you any sorrow_  
 _I never meant to cause you any pain_  
 _I only wanted to one time to see you laughing_  
 _I only wanted to see you_  
 _Laughing in the purple rain_ —

Tugger was knocked out of his daze by a loud _THUD_ from behind him. It was enough to make the large Maine Coon jump! There was now an eerie silence. Was it Jelly? Bomba? _Anyone?_ He took slow, careful steps to investigate and when he peered around the barrel...

"I was given a job to do... and this time I won't let you fuck it up." The Savannah had Jellylorum underneath his hold, mouth covered. Rum Tum Tugger had never seen the strong-willed Angora look so terrified. "I promised Raithen your collar... and maybe your paw too... so that he knows you're finally out of our way. Raithen always gets what he wants. When you're a Copperkit, you serve or you die."

Tugger knew how this worked—if he got too close, she'd die... he wouldn't make that mistake again. He knew this cat was easy to rile up... Terrified, he calmly muttered, "Then it looks like you'll die." And Nebula's face contorted with rage.

Tugger turned and jumped the fence, more clumsy than usual due to his weak muscles, but he managed to get a running start. The drop to the ground had hurt and he yelped in pain. He knew he was behind him—no one could mistake the feeling of being chased, at least not _him_. Unlike Nebula, the tom knew this side of the city like the back of his paw, but it seemed that his slow gait would be his enemy – his cuts still burned all over his body. The limber and tall cat would be catch up to him if he was running blindly, but Tugger knew just where he was going. It was a matter of _beating_ Nebula there.

He saw the backdoor of a bakery open an leapt inside.

* * *

 **Munkustrap**

When the tabby whipped around the corner of the building, prepared to see Mosstail right in his face so he could get a scratch in, the Russian Blue wasn't there. He'd circled that goddamn block for no reason now! Where _was_ he? Munkustrap looked around wildly until, from above, Mosstail launched himself at him from the gutter of the building, claws and fangs out. Every human living on that street could hear the yowling and screeching of two angry toms then.

There were cries of fury and pain until Munkustrap scrambled far enough away to start running again.

* * *

 **Rum Tum Tugger**

 _"There's a cat!"_

 _"How the fuck did it get in here?"_

 _"Get it out NOW!"_

So many voices clamoring as Tugger charged through the storage room, only desperate to find a way to get out the front. It was only a matter of time before Nebula figured out where he'd disappeared to. For once, the Maine Coon was thankful to be shooed out with a broom and onto an already-busy sidewalk. People just starting their days. Instead of running, he walked. Trying to hide behind the many legs and ankles. His shoulder was throbbing; he was pushing his body to the limit as it was. His lip quivered from the chill in the air.

He'd lost him. His heartbeat started to go back to normal—

"Ahh!" A couple shouted behind him. Rum Tum Tugger turned; Nebula had found him. He fled again. Being the size he was, it was harder for him to squeeze past all these people, even with the agility cats were blessed with. On top of that, the ice made him clumsier than normal. Every time he looked back, he could see the determination in the Savannah's eyes. Nebula ran like a machine. Not zig-zagging and frantic, but focused and in a straight line. He simply _forced_ people out of his way.

The maned tom had been so busy trying to use the people as his shield and seeing how close or far Nebula was, that he missed the huge gates in front of him! He jumped and expected an immediate landing... only to keep falling and falling until he went rolling and tumbling down cement stairs. Tugger was a physical cat; he could bounce right back to his feet after such a fall... but this morning it had felt like he'd been rolling a thousand years. His body felt like lead. He gripped his shoulder in pain only to find that it was bleeding again.

He knew he had to get up, but everything _hurt._ He hissed through his teeth as he pushed himself off of the ground. It wouldn't be much of a chase anymore though... as he bled in a daze, Tugger dizzily stood up and wobbled into the snow.

Nebula sneered... curious cat might be out of his sight, but his blood wasn't. Red paw prints in the slushy snow every so often, leading the way. The Savannah saw a swipe of crimson on a tree. "Raithen may think highly of you, but I'm no fool." He called into the area. "You think you can take my place! But I'll show him he's wrong... You might've killed Macavity, but I'll kill the cat that killed _him!_ " He knew the tom liked attention, so he waited for him to come out. "What's the matter, stage fright for once?" Some ice melting off the branches dripped on Nebula's head and his shook it off, only for two more plops. He wiped his fur, only to see that his paw was now sticky and red.

He didn't even have time to look up.

* * *

 **Munkustrap**

Munkustrap didn't look good either; covered in bloody scratches and his fur all spiked and mangled. He might be a stray, but now he really _looked_ like one. Nonetheless, he wasn't about to lead Mosstail back to his tribe where his kittens were. He kept running, even when his legs didn't want to anymore. He couldn't help but notice that Mosstail's didn't want to either.

In fact, he'd been listening to him wheeze and choke for the past minute as they both sauntered weakly through an alley. Evidently the Mau had done a number on him as well! What was he even doing?

"You can chase me for a-hundred years, and you'd never catch me." Munkustrap huffed, clutching a cut across his chest. He was in desperate need for water... so was Mosstail... how did he even eat or drink without his tongue? He looked back at the sad, sad tom once more and couldn't help but scoff. "So this is what your purpose in life has been brought down to..." It hadn't come out as authoritative as he'd wanted, since he was so out of breath, but he continued, "...following some twisted freak's orders."

Mosstail said nothing, but he kept limping closer.

Munkustrap couldn't believe this. "I can assume this isn't the first time you've killed under orders? Orders from the same tom that ripped your tongue out? What could he possibly give you to justify that?" Mosstail looked at him, defiant... but Munkustrap really, honestly, _couldn't_ understand it. "What on this earth can make killing and hurting other cats acceptable... a 'home?' Isn't a real home somewhere where you're safe from all that?" He asked, even though he couldn't respond.

Without even a swipe, or some sort of look of animosity Mosstail got down his knees, aching and tired. Neither tom was running anymore... they were too tired of it. Mosstail lowered his head... and Munkustrap looked at him not in anger or hatred... but in pity.

"...I just don't understand it." He said to himself. He wanted to approach, but part of him wondered if it was a trap. To test this, Munkustrap walked the rest of the way out the alley... and Mosstail didn't follow. The silver tom left him there to think about his words.


End file.
